


Jeon Jungkook vs the League of (9)7 Evil Exes

by catladyjaebeom



Category: GOT7, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, M/M, Mentioned Bangtan Boys | BTS Member(s), Mentioned GOT7 Ensemble, Mentioned NCT 127 Ensemble, Mentioned SEVENTEEN Ensemble, Minor Violence, Scott Pilgrim References, Touring, Warped Tour, because well there will be battles, for the sake of not tagging a bunch of names here, jungkook has 7 different gay crushes - the fic, nothing major
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:55:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 33,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26389786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catladyjaebeom/pseuds/catladyjaebeom
Summary: Haven't you heard? If you want to date Kim Yugyeom, you have to defeat his evil exes.
Relationships: Jeon Jungkook/Kim Yugyeom
Comments: 16
Kudos: 42
Collections: Emo BTS Fest





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [emobtsfest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/emobtsfest) collection. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * * *
> 
> _Scott Pilgrim au with 7 deadly exes except each ex is the frontman of one of the bands playing warped (bonus points for 97line inclusion)_
> 
> * * *
> 
> First and foremost, I'd like to apologize for how long this turned out. To my prompter, I read that '97 inclusion' and I fucking ran with it and I am sorry. A little bit. I had a lot of fun writing, and I hope that you'll enjoy this even though it might not be what you expected!
> 
> This is loosely based off the movie (i read the comics _forever_ ago and i have zero memory of it. oof). There will be no love triangles because that's a straight people thing and here we solve our problems with threesomes like men. 
> 
> (p.s. a lot of idols from other groups will be used in this. non-multis, i am sorry!)

X X X X X X X

“Ugh, this is gonna suuuuck!”

That’s about the _nth_ time Jungkook (22 – kicks ass) said that since they left Namjoon’s house.

Seokjin’s uninterested voice comes from a couple of seats over. “That’s the _nth_ time you said that since we left Namjoon’s house.”

Jungkook groans again.

It’s a lame night to follow a lame day, and Jungkook is being dragged by his lame friend to a lame party. It’s a party of someone none of them know, red cups and a firepit by the abandoned pool. Somehow Seokjin (25 – owns everything) got himself invited, and he had to bring Yoongi with him, which meant he also asked Hoseok and Hoseok asked Taehyung and before Jungkook knew it the entire band was taking the bus across town. He didn’t get much of a choice.

On the seat next to his, Hoseok (24 – the Talent) taps his faux-leather-pants-covered thighs to the rhythm of the song they were supposed to be practicing today. “I told you, this is a great opportunity for us!” He says, again. “Nayeon said there’s a hundred percent chance that someone from JYPE might drop by!”

“You know that means nothing, right?” Jungkook replies, letting his body sink down into the seat, his heels on the back of Taehyung's chair on the in front of them. “Like, a chance someone _might_ drop by, and even if they do go it’s probably not even someone important.”

Hoseok dismisses him with a wave of his hand, shaking the fringe out of his eyes. “It’s still a better chance than hiding ourselves in Namjoon’s garage. The chance of someone from JYPE dropping by there is close to none.”

“Unless someone from JYPE is secretly dating Mrs Kim.” Seokjin pipes in, still not sounding that interested.

“Yes, unless that.”

Jungkook is about to roll his eyes but something isn’t sitting right about that first sentence. Back up. 

“Wait, wait,” he says with a frown. “Did you just say Nayeon?” Hoseok nods, suddenly acting as if the sleeves of his jacket are the most interesting thing in the world. “Why are we going to the same party as Nayeon?” Jungkook narrows his eyes. “I thought you guys broke up.”

There’s a stretched pause in which Jungkook stares at Hoseok and Hoseok pretends not to notice. 

“That’s irrelevant.” He mumbles through his words. “We’re going to get a label deal, not hang out with any exes.”

Behind them, Seokjin lets out a puff of air. “Speak for yourself.”

That seems to put an end to their argument. Abandoned pool party with Hoseok’s ex it is.

Jungkook pulls a string from the rip of his jeans, makes a tiny ball with it, and throws it aimless behind himself. Hopes it hits Seokjin.

Outside, the lights of the city blink as the bus drives by at a slow pace. Jungkook’s iPod lies dead on the pocket of his hoodie because he lost his headphones that week. 

Taehyung (23 – the Cool one) and Namjoon are sharing earphones and Jungkook curses himself for letting Hoseok sit next to him. He can even hear traces of an edgy guitar solo from an obscure band no one knows except Namjoon (24 – provides the garage). 

JYPE is the hottest record label for alternative pretentious bands lately. Barely a year old but enough attention and fame to make numbers. No one knows where it came from or who the big boss is but that only adds to the hype. Anyone who wants to be someone in the scene dreams of getting signed by those guys. Of course, it's pretty selective and secretive. You don't go after JYPE, they come after _you._ For the past year Hoseok has been relentless, chasing down any leads and harassing people on myspace looking for a chance for their shitty band. Their luck has also been pretty shitty.

They're a band of three and a half and Hoseok is the only one with actual talent – being the guitar and vocals and all –, so if anyone has a chance to get the _Bullet_ signed, it's him.

(Not that Taehyung is a bad drummer. He's just a better saxophonist. Or violinist. Or pianist. Seriously, how the hell a classic musician ended up in a questionable edgy garage band?)

At least their lyrics are good, but that's because neither of the three write them. Namjoon might not have a way with instruments but he’s great with words. Hoseok tried to get him to play the guitar once, and somehow they ended up with two tworn strings. Now if Namjoon wants to feel included, he gets a tambourine.

And Jungkook plays the bass, does some back-up vocals. Helps with the melodies when he can. They're only half bad.

The bus drives past a speed bump a little too fast and Jungkook hits his forehead on the window. Luckily no one sees it and Jungkook takes the opportunity to close his eyes and pretend he's sleeping for the rest of the ride. It can't be more than eight, he hasn't checked his sidekick since they left Namjoon's house. If he's lucky this party will be a bust and he can be home and under covers by eleven.

It takes a while but then his beanie is being pulled from his head, (seriously, fuck Seokjin) and it's their stop. They all get out and the chilly air makes Jungkook pull the beanie down to his ears. Yoongi (25 – Seokjin's boyfriend _(?)_ ) is the one who knows the best way, apparently, and he takes the lead down the sidewalk. The streets are pretty empty, nothing but lamp posts and one or two cars passing by, most people not too inclined to walk around in the middle of nowhere.

"We're not gonna die out here, are we?" Namjoon asks, not so subtly hiding his iPod on the inside of his jacket.

"Relax, if anyone attacks us, we'll throw Jungkook at them and make a run for it." Seokjin looks behind his shoulder at them and winks. Jungkook flips him off.

"Nothing is gonna happen." Hoseok assures them, rubbing his palms together for warmth. "Listen, I can hear the music already."

Yoongi nods with his head, recently bleached ghost white hair bobbing with the motion. "It's just around the corner."

Now that Hoseok mentioned it, Jungkook starts picking up the sound of bass and drums in the distance, getting louder each step they take. It's a nice night, all things considered. A bit chilly but nothing that's gonna be unbearable after a beer or two and the sky is clear of clouds. It's still lame, but at least the weather isn't shit.

Their group gets to the corner and finally the so-called party comes into view, or at least the path up to it. The wire fences have long been taken by overgrown plants and occasional vandalism, but the parts still up have fairy lights to make sure no one trips and dies. It’s a short walk from the entrance to the pool, trees and weeds and bugs making you company as the party becomes louder. 

As far as Jungkook knows it's an old club facility. Besides the empty pool, the space also has an indoor basketball court and some changing rooms, pretty much just an open invitation for a party like this. There's gatherings down here all the time, mostly illegal, nothing special. They've been here a couple of times, and it's rarely worth the commute.

Jungkook can see the campfire right at the front, in the patio area between the three constructions. It doesn’t look all that crowded but there’s enough people to make him uncomfortable and the song is really loud, huge stereos blasting one of Fall Out Boy’s newest songs by the open doors of the basketball court. No one knows how this place still gets electricity but everything is working just fine, the bulbs inside the empty pool shining light on drunk people stumbling around just fine. 

Hoseok is the first one to abandon the group, phone in hand and saying over the music he’s going to ask around for anyone from JYPE. Taehyung gives Jungkook a look as if to say they both know exactly what that means, and neither of them should expect to see their vocalist anytime soon. The rest of them split up not long after, each off to do their own thing. Jungkook stays close to Namjoon and the both of them stay close to the corners and out of people's ways.

They go inside the court because that’s where the drinks are. Inside looks pretty much the same as outside, some people scattered and not enough people dancing, some seating at the bleachers. The windows of the court that weren’t broken were painted black and most of the walls are covered in graffiti – some of it being Taehyung’s, if Jungkook’s memory isn’t complete ass. Actually, according to Seokjin, word around is some people from the TT house own this place and keep it running from money they make from drinks and snacks. Nayeon (23 – Hoseok’s ex) is a member of the TT house, but she never mentioned anything, so Jungkook can’t know for sure.

Said bar is more of a makeshift table and chest freezer under one of the broken hoops with a neon sign pricing the drinks. There’s a couple of the TT girls taking care of it, one taking money as the others hand out red cups and peanut packs. It’s warm enough inside that Jungkook has no choice but to zip down his hoodie, at least, because he absolutely doesn’t want to be holding on to it all night. 

After an agonizing while in the queue murmuring with loud voices with each other they end up outside again, this time just two of them, Yoongi disappearing into thin air as soon as they have their beers in hand. Seokjin is gone in less than a whole minute and by the time Jungkook turns around to ask Taehyung the time, the redhead is nowhere to be found. Namjoon offers him a shrug and Jungkook lets out a long sigh, in preparation for the long night.

Enough songs go by that Namjoon excuses himself to the bathroom and asks if Jungkook wants to come with. He doesn’t, not really, but he has nothing better to do and not one of the people around is interesting enough for him to hang out with. There’s a line at the changing rooms when Namjoon goes in, leaving Jungkook to drag himself to wait by the firepit. 

The beer on his red cup tastes like piss, which is expected, because all beer tastes like piss. Something by one of those neon pop bands is playing and some of the people gathered are dancing, Hoseok among them, apparently, with a guy he works with at the supermarket. In fact, if Jungkook wanted to, he could easily pinpoint where exactly he knows half the party from. A girl he went to highschool with checking her reflection on a small mirror. Taehyung’s third cousin in a small circle with three other dudes. 

Out of the ones he doesn’t know, there isn’t really anything out of the ordinary scene. A kid wearing a Simple Plan shirt that definitely isn’t old enough to be here. Opposite from Jungkook, across the firepit, there’s a guy in a black and yellow striped shirt. His back is turned so Jungkook can’t see much, but he doesn’t look familiar at all. He’s by himself, it seems, looking up at the dragon graffiti at the top of the basketball court entrance. 

Don’t ask why, but something sparks Jungkook’s curiosity. He takes a few steps to the side as inconspicuous as he can, trying to get a better view. There’s a dancing shadow on the expanse of the guy’s back from the fire, forming shapes between his broad shoulders. The shirt collar runs low and before he can wonder why, he sees the tip of a tattoo. He can’t see what it is, but it still does something to the top of Jungkook’s throat. Another step closer, piss beer forgotten in his hands.

Oh. _Oh._

It’s like the whole place shuts down and turns on at the same time.

It’s the light on his hair that Jungkook sees first. The reflection of the fire, some sort of orange glow on pitch dark hair, sliding down his face. The curve of his nose, the shining silver cross dangling from his ear, the slope of his neck and the striped shirt, tucked into skin-tight black jeans, legs that make go on for so long they make Jungkook’s lips dry. 

Before he can do anything, however, the handsome stranger is gone. A group of girls pass between them and when they disperse, there’s no there. Jungkook searches around, from the firepit to the entrance of the court, going as far as walking back and forth, but nothing. 

For a fleeting, split second, Jungkook wonders if it was a figment of his imagination. This tall glass of cool water, combat boots and smooth hair. 

Nah, there’s no way. He’s not that creative. 

What Jungkook needs is information. He’s never seen this guy in his life and that’s telling, since this is a small town and everyone knows everyone. What he needs is to find out who invited this man, someone who might know who he is.

Jungkook knows he saw just the person close to the changing rooms just twenty minutes ago. He’s the guy who usually gets them into bars and clubs, somehow majoring in two different courses and still looking like a walking god. Namjoon has a crush on him and his sleeveless shirts and slicked back bleached hair. Jungkook makes a desperate beeline and bumps on at least four people until he spots Jackson (24 – knows everyone) leaning against one of the empty barrels. 

Jungkook completely ignores the small group of people gathered around him. “Hey Jackson,” he plants himself between the man and the rest of the group. “You know everyone, right?” 

Jackson takes one long sip from his tin mug. He’s against plastic waste. “Pretty much, yeah.”

That’s good enough for Jungkook. “Do you know a guy with legs that come up to here?” He taps the height of his chin. 

A drum build up cuts their conversation in half, Jackson watching the motion of Jungkook’s hand before he can reply. “Sure,” he says, over the song. “That's Kim Yugyeom.”

On cue, that’s when the sick guitar solo drops. The name travels through his ears like the rumbles of the strings. Jungkook feels a grumbling in his stomach that has nothing to do with hunger. 

Jackson, apparently, is still talking. “Why, you got the hots for him or something? I gotta tell you though, he’s really hardcore-.”

Jungkook, however, is already gone. 

The first place he looks is the inside of the basketball court, eyes darting around like a hawk scanning for prey. He sees all the same familiar faces, most of them going by in blurs. Hoseok walks past him talking to Nayeon (didn’t he say they broke up?) and he sees Yoongi sitting by himself on the bleachers. Jungkook does a full lap of the room before marching back outside, determined.

He’s not sure if it’s his imagination, but somehow the outside looks around two times more crowded than it was a moment ago. Jungkook moves in a messy line, avoiding bumping shoulders with kids with flat ironed hair and heavy makeup. Taehyung’s mop of red hair is somewhere to his left, he only sees it through his peripheral. 

Jungkook ends up crouching down the edge of the shallow side of the pool and jumping in. The pool works as a makeshift dance floor, except the sound from the speakers doesn’t reach as loud, which totally defeats the concept. That’s fine, no one dances at these parties, anyway. Just a few small groups scattered doing more standing quietly than talking. Makes it easier for him to pick out the person he’s looking for.

It’s like a scene from a movie. The seconds seem to slow down as the flashing lights focus on one spot, for Jungkook’s benefit. All across the empty pool, leaning by himself against the tiled walls, is Kim Yugyeom.

Shoulders and legs and all.

The thing is, Jungkook doesn’t usually approach boys at parties. He never approaches anyone at parties, mostly because this is a small town and there’s rarely anyone new in their circle, so this is a big deal. He wants to think about it, come up with a plan and slide into conversation in a way that’s socially acceptable. Make a joke, break the ice.

His brain seems to want something different, though. Before he can fully access the situation, he’s already by the graffitied tiles of the pool, gluing his back to the wall. Jungkook looks down at his cup and it clicks that it’s empty, likely for a while now, and he takes in a deep breath. Yugyeom is to his left, too busy looking at the party. Jungkook scoots a step closer.

Then scoots again.

Then a little more.

“Hey.”

Yugyeom turns to face him with a sharp movement. He looks Jungkook up and down.

“Hi.”

Something runs past every single nerve of Jungkook’s body. Yugyeom’s voice is _different,_ not at all like he was expecting. Granted, it’s just one syllable, but it’s probably the most melodic sound he’s ever heard. He needs to keep going.

Quick, say something. Anything. 

“Lame party, huh?”

A small shrug. “It’s not so bad.”

They’re left with only the sound of a familiar guitar and drum bridge, other people’s muffled murmurs. It feels… Not awkward, but not _not_ awkward. Yugyeom hasn’t shown any signs that he’s bothered by his presence, which is good. It’s great. He should keep going. 

“So…” Jungkook brings the empty cup close to his lips, trying to look nonchalant. “You know your back?”

Yugyeom raises an eyebrow. “I know of it.”

“It’s nice.”

The cheap disco lights flash rainbow colors on Yugyeom’s fringe, and that’s when Jungkook notices the reflection on the lip piercing, the heavy eyeliner and the mole under his eye. And then the odd look Yugyeom is sending his way, and the absolute monstrosity he just said.

“I mean-, the tattoo!” Jungkook splutters, words running over his tongue. “Your tattoo! It’s nice!”

“Uh,” Yugyeom’s eyes shake, as if he wants to check how the hell Jungkook saw the tattoo when he has his back against the wall. “Thanks.” He says after a while, a little hesitant. He nods down at Jungkook’s arm. “Your tattoos are nice too.”

Out of instinct, Jungkook extends his right hand forward, doing a show of twisting it around so Yugyeom has a better view. “Thanks, it’s our logo.” He explains, moving the hand closer when Yugyeom leans in to inspect it. “From our band, that is. It’s our logo.”

That does it, and when Yugyeom raises his eyes there’s a spark in them. Also a smirk on his lips. “You have a band?”

Well. Not really a full smirk. A small curl on the side of his lips. A twitch. 

“Yeah, we suck bad.” Jungkook says. “I’m the bassist.”

The almost-smirk turns into an almost-giggle. Yugyeom looks a little less reserved than he was a minute ago, but not yet sure if he likes Jungkook. It’s fine, really, this could’ve gone much worse. He’s probably used to this, random people approaching him at parties and making fools out of themselves. 

Something about him is so alluring, almost bewitching. Maybe it’s the body proportions, the thin waist and the legs that are at least twice Yoongi’s height. Jungkook can’t help it. His eyes traveling up and down Yugyeom thighs and the studs and a pair of chains attached to his belt – God, this is hopeless – and how the long sleeves of his striped shirt are rolled up and what it looks like another tattoo on his arm. He wants to ask, but he’s not sure if it would be weird or not since, you know, this is the first time they’re even talking. 

Jungkook lets his eyes wander back up and finds Yugyeom completely closed off, eyebrow raised even more than before, deadpan eyes as he stares back.

That's when it hits him. He hasn’t said a word in a whole minute, looking at Yugyeom’s legs like a creep. Jungkook feels the color draining from his face and his throat closing off. He opens his mouth, closes it. Does it again.

“I’ll leave you alone forever now.”

The stoic look on Yugyeom’s face doesn’t waver, nor does his handsomeness. “Thanks.”

Jungkook takes the leave. It’s best if he just shuts the hell up anyway. He turns on his all-stars and marches away, hand gripping on the plastic cup so hard it twirls. Head a hundred miles. Heart a million. 

He doesn’t stop walking until he’s on the other side of the empty pool, where the ground is close enough that he can get out easily. It’s weird because he can’t really control his limbs, not fully aware of what just happened, but he doesn’t let himself go too far, never letting Yugyeom out of his sight.

And then Jungkook watched him.

Until

He

Left

The party.

At the speed of a cockroach when the kitchen lights turn on, Jungkook pops out in front of Jackson again, out of thin air. 

“DUDE!” He all but bumps the drink out of the guy’s hand. Jungkook’s mind is racing his heartbeat. “What do you know about Kim Yugyeom?”

Jackson almost yelps in surprise, “Only that he’s a bassist.”

The tension on his shoulders melts down into his chest and black and red hearts pop up with the image of Yugyeom’s three mile legs and shoulders in his head. 

“A bassist…” He sighs, music in the background sounding more and more filtered. He snaps back at Jackson, forcing himself to keep focus. He’s on a mission here. “What else?”

Jackson holds his drink to himself, in an attempt to keep it safe from Jungkook. “That’s all I know. He’s kinda new in town.” He must notice the shift in Jungkook’s expression, because he is quick to add: “Why don't you go ask Jihyo and Sana? They probably know mo-.”

Jungkook is gone before he can hear the end of that sentence. He finds the two girls talking to each other inside the basketball court, near the broken hoops. He wastes absolutely no time.

“What do you know about Kim Yugyeom?”

Jihyo (22 – hangs out with Sana) gives him a long stare. “I hear he has a boyfriend.”

“Ah, yes!” Sana (23 – hangs out with Jihyo) joins in excitedly. “A guy from his band.”

Jungkook wants to snicker but he wont. “Yeah, yeah,” he says through a forced smile. “What else?”

A girl that is neither Jihyo nor Sana whips the hair out of her shoulder, catching Jungkook’s attention. “I hear he kicks all kinds of ass.”

It feels as if a small group of people know of Kim Yugyeom, and they’re all eager to join in. “He's like, on another level.” Jungkook doesn't even know where these are coming from. “He has men dying at his feet.” It's a different guy now. “He’s got some baggage, dude.”

Suddenly, Nayeon is directly in front of him.

 _"What about_ Kim Yugyeom?” 

Oh, she sounds pissed. That must mean she knows who he is. “You know him?” Jungkook blinks a few times. “Tell me now!”

Nayeon raises an eyebrow at him, heavy make-up giving her just enough edge to look jaded. “He just moved here.” She says. “Hangs out at that new smoothie place near our house.” 

Images flash through Jungkook’s mind, his mouth filter pretty much useless at this point. “Does he really,” he mumbles. 

An arm drops around Nayeon’s shoulder, and with it the body of a person. Hoseok, button up shirt more open than it was when they got here. “Didn't you say he just broke up with someone?”

More mumbling from Jungkook, this time hopeful. “Did he really?”

“Had a huge fight, or whatever,” his voice sounds a little distant, as if he’s trying to collect more facts. Hoseok twirls the beer bottle he has in his free hand. “Moved here without his band for a fresh start.”

Honestly, he only listens to the _huge fight or whatever_ part. “Did they really?”

The vocalist opens his mouth to reply but Naeyon interrupts him, shoving Hoseok off her shoulder. “Yeah, but I didn’t want Jungkook to know that, damn it!” She points the cup she’s holding at Jungkook. “Because he’s gonna try to do something stupid, and I don’t want him scaring off the coolest band at our party acting all desperate because he hasn’t had a real relationship in over a year.”

Hoseok takes offense in the first part, Jungkook doesn’t. Sort of. It’s the second half that stings. Stings enough that he physically winces. 

(At least she didn’t use the _E_ word.)

“I thought you guys broke up.” He says, instead.

They both ignore him, bickering at each other. Before Jungkook knows it, Hoseok has his arm around Nayeon again.

“Jungkook is totally over that,” he says, as a proud mom at soccer practice. “His mourning period is over.” 

Nayeon rolls her eyes. “Going after someone who is miles out of your league like an idiot _is_ the mourning period!”

After a second, Hoseok gives up. “She’s got a point.”

“Whatever, Yugyeom is too much for you, let’s leave it at that.” Nayeon raises her tone and shoves Hoseok again. Once she’s free, she adjusts her fringe. “Besides, I'm not even sure he _did_ have a big breakup.” She takes a sip from her cup, but Jungkook is only half listening. “Keeps talking about some guy from his band.”

Huh, there it is again. Jungkook wouldn’t call himself an optimistic person, but in this case he will force himself to be. 

He wants to find out more but Seokjin shows up dragging Namjoon and Yoongi in each arm, claiming he has reached the amount of lame he can handle in a single night. Namjoon very helpfully supplies that it’s Seokjin’s fault they’re there in the first place, which in return gets him a slap in the arm. 

It’s fine because it’s late. Neither of them wants to risk missing the last bus and getting stranded in the middle of nowhere with the TT house. Jungkook’s pretty much ready to go home, anyway.

X X X X X X X

Two weeks pass before Jungkook sees him again.

He wakes up the day after the party in a quick flash, sitting up straight and eyes shooting wide.

“Oh, god.”

Seokjin shoots up immediately after him, eyes barely open, “What is it, Jungkook?”

“I had this really weird dream.”

(It wasn’t _that_ weird. He was a singer, a famous singer with a group of guys, and Yugyeom was also a famous singer with his own group of guys, and then Jungkook had to put his phone number inside a sandwich because that was the only way he could ask Yugyeom out.) 

On the other side of Seokjin, another person sits up, groaning. “Oh, come on!” 

“What is it, Yoongi?” Seokjin asks.

“Can we skip the dream time?” His voice is dragged, and part of Jungkook’s brain reminds him that Yoongi absolutely hates to be woken up. “I don’t give a shit.”

Jungkook rubs his eyes, tries to get sleep out of them. “But there was the guy.” 

“Guy?” Seokjin opens one eye to peek at him, hair sticking in a funny shape.

Yoongi lets out an annoyed huff. “Was this another _Envy_ related dream?”

“No, no,” Seokjin is quick to bump his hand on Yoongi’s thigh. “We don’t use the _E_ word in this house.”

“Wasn’t him,” He shakes his head, because even so it’s unusual that it wasn’t an _E_ word related dream. “It was the guy from the party.”

“Good for you." Yoongi groans again, dropping back into the mattress the three of them share.

Seokjin shrugs and joins him, losing whichever interest he had a second ago. Jungkook is still only half awake, so it doesn’t bother him the way it’s supposed to. 

After that he spends the rest of the weekend hogging Seokjin’s computer looking up everything and anything he can about Kim Yugyeom. The internet connection is shit and it keeps lagging every forum he tries to navigate without clicking on flashy virus links but it works, and he finds more than he bargained for. 

First of all, Yugyeom not only is a bassist, he’s the bassist for _Eclipse_ under the pseudonym Kyeom. _Eclipse._ JYPE’s hottest band to date, breaking records left and right after their very successful first album and tour and even at the cover of Kerrang! magazine. Jungkook wants to smash his head into the keyboard for not noticing it sooner. He _knows_ _Eclipse,_ hell, everyone knows _Eclipse,_ their latest single If You Do even played at the damn party Yugyeom was at.

So Nayeon was right after all. Someone from JYPE _did,_ in fact, one hundred percent show up. 

He also looks up every single smoothie place open in town and cross searches them with the address of the TT house. There are a few too many smoothie shops in that part of town, which is a little weird, but Jungkook writes all of them down and goes on a quest.

The third one is in a nice looking street with kids walking around and well kept trees providing shade for the people walking by. It’s called the _Smooth Fun Fest_ and the banner has huge colorful letters and drawings of fruits with cartoon faces. 

Jungkook immediately knows it’s the right one because he spots one of the girls from the TT house behind the counter, striped pink and white apron and a glittery nametag. She refuses to say anything unless Jungkook buys the most expensive drink in the house. Jungkook retaliates with his sharp tongue and practiced speech on helping out a friend and being an advocate for love.

Doesn’t work. He gets himself a big tropical fruit with added mixed berries with star-shaped sprinkles and finds out Yugyeom usually drops by on Sunday and Tuesday afternoons, always alone, never for too long.

The first week is a bust and all he has is the condescending looks Dahyun (21 – works at the smoothie place) sends him every other ten minutes, undoubtedly texting the other TT girls and laughing at his expense. 

Jungkook’s been there for so long he’s got pretty much the whole place memorized. When he gets there the second Tuesday he already knows the daily specials and he knows the group of little girls that do ballet across the street will be on their way out. He gets a sundae, because apparently they sell those too, and tells Dahyun to mind her own business. She laughs in his face. 

He spends a few minutes reading the posters people stick to the big pastel blue board next to the counter and one in particular catches his attention. The big label, JYPE, is holding a music festival soon and they’re accepting bands for the line up. Jungkook doubts Hoseok isn’t already aware, but he steals the poster and puts it in his pocket, just in case.

Around two hours go by, and all he’s got some melted ice-cream in front of him. He’s about to give up when the bell of the door chimes and Kim Yugyeom slides inside the shop. 

Quite literally. He’s in black rollerblades with bat wings laced up at the high top of the shoe. There’s even kneepads and leather fingerless gloves. Jungkook checks twice. Safety is important.

Yugyeom rolls over and braces himself over the counter, taking his time to look at the menu. His pants are the kind Jungkook has been wanting for weeks, the extra tight that hang low on the hips and the slightly tattered shirt short enough that he gets a glimpse of skin when Yugyeom leans forward.

Jungkook grips the plastic spoon so hard he breaks it. 

“I’ll take the usual, thanks!”

After he pays, Dahyun tells him she’ll bring it over in a second. Jungkook wants to snort because not once did she bring him anything, but he supposes it’s a rockstar privilege. Yugyeom thanks her before rolling over to the other side of the store and sitting down by himself next to the window. Doesn’t even spare Jungkook a glance. 

Okay, Jungkook needs to calm down and actually _do_ something. Yugyeom has his back turned to him (the top of the tattoo very much visible, a pair of wings spread across his shoulders) and he’s humming under his breath to the song playing from the radio. 

He stands up before he can think too much. What can he do, though? It was easier at the party – people approach other people all the time at parties –, but here, at the smoothie shop? Yugyeom would think he's a crazy fan and probably get a restraining order.

But at the same time, he doesn't want to miss this opportunity. Deep in his core he knows, he feels, that he and Yugyeom are meant to be together. All lameness aside. Jungkook takes a reluctant step forward, then one deep breath.

He’s thankful that his little meltdown seems to go unnoticed, given that Yugyeom seems distracted playing with the impressive amount of bracelets on his right wrist. 

It’s now or never, he guesses. Jungkook pulls the chair across from Yugyeom and plants his ass down. 

“Hey.”

Yugyeom looks a little amused, as if he knew this was going to happen eventually. “Hi.”

He looks different in the daylight. Now Jungkook can see him, really _see_ him, his hair looks dark blue in the sunlight. How pretty the shape of his eyes is and the contrast between the black ring on the left corner of his bottom lip on skin. 

“You probably don’t remember me,” Jungkook says, before he can change his mind. “We met at the party the other day.”

Yugyeom leans back into his seat. “Were you the back tattoo guy?”

Yikes.

“No,” he swallows down, pointedly shaking his head. “That was some other guy, some lame weirdo.”

Yugyeom lets his eyebrows raise a little before he exaggerates a nod and a hum, completely not buying that. Jungkook was never really good at lying, so he is pretty much counting with the kindness of Yugyeom’s heart to pretend that their first meeting never happened. 

“I’m Jungkook, by the way.”

“Hi Jungkook,” he says in reply. He takes his time cracking his knuckles, eyes never leaving Jungkook's before adding, “I’m Yugyeom.”

And then, he _smiles._

Jungkook feels a breath he never knew he was holding getting stuck up his throat. He was attracted to Yugyeom from the very first moment, that's not news, but this catches him completely off guard. 

Ever since the party he's seen a lot of pictures of Yugyeom. Pictures from the magazine cover, from posters, from his myspace account. It's not the same. Magazine pictures are too weird sometimes, some are too edited and some are just oddly cropped pictures from a bad-lit concert venue. Posters are even worse, grainy images that barely show the band at all. It's not the same, and it's not the same as seeing Yugyeom two weeks ago was.

It's the first _real_ smile he's gotten. It's not open and full of teeth like Taehyung’s and Hoseok’s, it's not contained and knowing like Namjoon's, it's not teasing and a little unnerving like Seokjin's. It's something else entirely, hitting him straight, a gentle brush of air in a way that makes his chest lighter. The soft blush on his cheeks from getting here in rollerblades, his hair a little disheveled from likely the same reason. It's just a curl of the lips, a scrunch of the nose, a sparkle in the eyes.

It's enough to make Jungkook smile back, though.

"Here, there you go."

Jungkook blinks back into reality just in time to see a plastic cup being placed between them on the table. It's Dahyun, ignoring him in favor of talking to Yugyeom.

Yugyeom pulls the drink close to his side. "Thank you, Dahyun."

The girl smiles back at him. "If you need anything else, just call!"

"Will do."

Before she leaves she turns slowly and raises an eyebrow at Jungkook, eyes darting from him to Yugyeom with a very determined glare. She looks like she's trying to say something, but he has absolutely no idea what. Dahyun sighs, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like ‘ _idiot’_ before walking away.

It takes him a minute, but it downs like a bucket of ice water. What she said a week ago, that Yugyeom is never here for long. He needs to keep going, otherwise he'll miss the window.

"So, um," he stutters, rubbing his hands together. "You know Nayeon, right?"

Yugyeom looks up at him, straw stuck between his lips, right where the piercing is. "Yeah, I've seen her once or twice."

"She told me you're new in town."

Someone walks into the shop and the bell above the door catches their attention, both turning to look. It's a kid, a twelve-year-old Jungkook has seen once or twice. He runs up to the counter and calls Dahyun auntie. Yugyeom smiles at the scene before he turns towards Jungkook again.

"That's right, just got here a couple months ago."

"Are you liking it here?"

Yugyeom drinks some more of his smoothie. "I mean, there's not much to like," he giggles. Jungkook can't say he disagrees. "I haven't really been around at all. I don't know anyone here."

He wants to point out that he knows Nayeon and Dahyun, but he stops himself. He doesn't know that, for starters, and something in Yugyeom's tone sounds too genuine for him to be joking about it. Jungkook can empathize with it, feeling like you don't know anyone when you're surrounded by people that know you. He doesn't feel like that anymore, he has his friends from high school, he got lucky, he knows that. Yugyeom might be a celebrity in the making, but that doesn't equal friends in a town like this.

"I've been around a lot," Jungkook says. "I mean. I was born here, so I know all there is to like and dislike."

A very small rational part of his brain makes a point to flash out the words DON'T BE CREEPY across his mind. He clears his throat.

"So if you want to hang out sometime, I can show you the city." Jungkook jerks his chin around, forcing himself to be cool. “If you want. I don't know, maybe?”

Yugyeom looks down at his half empty drink, playing with the silver ring on his finger. He shifts his eyes back up and his smile looks hopeful. “You mean right now?”

Jungkook had meant later, actually. He has practice in about two minutes and Hoseok can been particularly pissy about punctuality.

“Sure!” He nods, hair bouncing over his eyes. “Right now is perfect, I’m not busy!”

Yugyeom's smile grows a little brighter, and so does Jungkook's heart. It takes them no time for them to get up, Jungkook suddenly reminded that Yugyeom rolled in there in skates and it makes him _tall,_ at least ten centimeters taller than Jungkook. He feels a shiver down his spine because it’s kind of hot, god, he needs to chill out. 

Once outside, they stand on the sidewalk for a few minutes working out what to do and the decision falls on Jungkook, since this was his idea in the first place. Yugyeom tells him he’s cool with whatever, which is for the best since there isn’t really that much to do on a Tuesday afternoon. Jungkook says as much and gets a laugh in return. 

They come to an agreement of just walking, for now. The weather is nice and the afternoon sun should be down soon. Jungkook makes a mental note of going towards the kid park, it’s not usually crowded at this hour and it should make for a pretty sunset. He’s a little nervous and worst comes to worst, he can distract Yugyeom with the dogs on their daily walks. 

Even in rollerblades Yugyeom manages to follow his pace easily, holding on to Jungkook’s shoulder every now and then when the ground gets uneven. It’s impressive either way, especially since Jungkook can’t skate to save his ass.

“So,” Yugyeom starts, sparing him a quick glance. “You lived here your whole life?”

"Yeah, born and raised." Jungkook kicks a pebble. "Never left, not for longer than a couple of weeks on vacation with my family. It's the worst."

Yugyeom laughs again, holding on to his bicep when they have to make a turn. Some people turn to give them odd looks, but Yugyeom doesn't seem to care. Jungkook finds himself not caring either, the feel of Yugyeom's hand over the fabric of his flannel shirt too distracting.

"Can't be that bad," Yugyeom says. "I moved to a different state for college, wasn't half as cool as people make it out to be."

That's something Jungkook knows. He read about it in a teen magazine, Yugyeom dropped out of college when his band started getting big. He doesn't say anything, because so far Yugyeom hasn't brought up _Eclipse_ once, and Jungkook wants to respect his privacy. Well, as far as he can, anyway.

"What did you study?"

"Business administration."

Jungkook comes to a sudden stop, looking up at him in pretty much disbelief. Yugyeom is caught by surprise and tightens his hold on Jungkook's arm to regain balance. He's still smiling though, and he doesn't let go.

"Are you for real?" Jungkook asks, because that's not what the teen article said. I mean, Jungkook knows better than to trust anything he reads online, but Yugyeom doesn't look at all like a business major.

Yugyeom seems to read his mind. "I know, right?" He lets out a small laugh. “I only did it because my parents made me, I didn’t stay long. Turns out I’m not cut for a suit and tie, go figure.” He makes a funny face, still looking light-hearted. “I took some dance classes, though. Those were cool. Would probably have switched majors if I stayed.”

That aligns more with what Jungkook read online, the dance classes. Guess the internet wasn’t completely full of shit.

He thinks about his next choice of words carefully, which means not even a little bit.

“Why did you leave?”

They’re still standing on the sidewalk, right across the street from a flower shop Jungkook’s mom used to take him. The owner is in the process of closing, bringing the pots and vases away from the window, leaving a single arrangement of lavender colored roses on display. Jungkook thinks they’re pretty neat, he had no idea those even existed.

Yugyeom slowly lets go of his arm. 

“We got signed by a good label, there was no point.” He says, easily. There is a smile on his lips, still. “I’m in a band too, you know?”

Jungkook clears his throat, suddenly finding the dirt on the asphalt a lot more interesting. “You don’t say?”

“Ah, shut up.” Yugyeom snorts out loud before hooking their arms together again, urging Jungkook to keep walking. “You’re not that good of a liar, Jeon Jungkook.” 

He almost gasps, eyes widening. “How do you-,”

“You weren’t the only one asking around,” Yugyeom mocks whispers, bumping their shoulders together. “It’s fine, I’m getting used to this thing. What did you find out?”

Jungkook feels a metaphorical weight lift off his shoulders. It wasn’t that he was necessarily planning on _lying_ to Yugyeom, but he figured he would omit the whole “I know you’re almost famous” part of their relationship at first, to avoid looking like a stalker. 

“I didn’t know at first, by the way,” he says. Yugyeom raises an eyebrow. “At the party? I just talked to you because I thought you were really handsome and cool.”

What he just said catches up to him immediately and he feels heat climb up from his neck all the way to his ears. Jungkook fights the actual, physical urge to slap himself in the forehead. If anything, at least Yugyeom doesn’t seem to mind, giving his bicep a squeeze. His eyes are smiling, and it’s a pretty sight under the orange sunset. Gives Jungkook butterflies, or some shit like that.

“That’s good to hear. You’re kind of cute, too.” He leans a little closer, letting himself be carried rather than make an effort to skate. “Anything else?”

Jungkook doesn’t mind the extra weight of Yugyeom hanging off his arm as they go down the sidewalk, the children’s park coming into view a couple of blocks away. He doesn’t mind it at all. 

“We’re the same age,” he says and then adds, with a smile, “Well, my birthday is in September. That means I’m older and wiser.”

Yugyeom laughs, a loud, carefree laugh that takes Jungkook a little off guard. He’s not funny, not in the slightest, and the sound goes straight to his heart. Yugyeom lets himself move further, his hand sliding down from Jungkook’s upper arm to link their fingers together. He looks at Jungkook then, a little cautious, as if asking if that’s okay. 

Jungkook squeezes. That’s more than okay.

They make it to another stop sign when Yugyeom speaks again, voice a lot more quiet than before. A little hesitant, even.

“And what about my band?”

“Just the basics?” He hums. “You all met in college, got signed by JYPE, got huge overnight. Pretty much one of the hottest bands right now.” Jungkook swings their joined hands together with a smile. He looks up at Yugyeom but he’s still looking ahead. “I should warn you, the singer in my band is obsessed with your label. Have you ever met the big boss?”

“Yeah, um, we know him.” Yugyeom nods. “He came after us, offered a pretty good deal. We kind of owe him everything.”

“Ah, man,” Jungkook shakes his head, wanting to giggle. “Wait until Hoseok hears this. He’s not gonna let you live until you arrange a meeting.”

Yugyeom uses his free hand to rub his other arm. “We don’t really hang out anymore,” he spares Jungkook a quick smile. “Busy guy, you know? Lots of bands to take care.”

Jungkook can’t say he’s surprised. It makes sense, someone that important must be hard to get a hold of. He doesn’t press because he doesn’t want Yugyeom to get the wrong impression, that he’s only interested because of his industry connections. Sure, getting signed by a huge label like JYPE would solve pretty much all of their troubles, but he wants to date Yugyeom, not use him.

He nods and they let the subject go. Jungkook takes them towards the park and Yugyeom lets go of his hand to skate on the smooth surface. It’s pretty much empty, just a few grandfathers playing chess under the trees and a hotdog stand. Yugyeom does some laps around the open space sending Jungkook smiles every now and then, wind blowing the fringe from his forehead and skin glistening under the golden light.

The more the sun sets the less people are around, and by the time the light on the horizon is a pink and orange line, Yugyeom and Jungkook are sitting side by side on the swings. They talk in the meantime, Jungkook tells Yugyeom about his friends, about highschool and about how he learned to play bass because he asked for a guitar for his birthday but his dad bought the wrong instrument. Yugyeom laughs and tells him about his hometown in another state, about his older brother teaching him with the old bass he bought secondhand. 

They hold hands too. Jungkook swings softly, just enough so he moves back and forth with his feet on the ground, leaning against the cool chain keeping the swing up. He’s still in a bit of awe of how Yugyeom hasn’t fallen down once, the wheels of his rollerblades dirty from the grass under the swings. His hand feels a little clammy and he feels a little self conscious but Yugyeom refuses to let him go, running his thumb over the tattoos on Jungkook’s knuckles and his chipped black nailpolish. 

Yugyeom also gives him _looks._ Jungkook feels a little dizzy everytime he does, the last bit of sunlight reflecting on his eyes that look a little drowsy, a little content, a little enchanting and a little bit of something else he can’t quite figure out. 

“I had a dream about you the other day.” He says, like an idiot. 

“Oh?” Yugyeom raises an eyebrow, tongue playing with the inside of his lip piercing. He looks amused. “Was it spicy?”

“No, it was a little weird, but nothing like that.” He shakes his head. “I’m still not quite so sure if I’m still dreaming or not, you know?”

Yugyeom tilts his head, leaning over the chain on his own swing. His smile drops a little, he looks confused but his eyes are almost impossible to read. Jungkook lets out a breath and stares down at his own pants, he feels like his own stomach wants to jump out and get run over by a passing car. He wants to curse at himself. If them hanging out is going to be a recurring thing, he’s going to have to work on his brain to mouth filter. He tends to ramble, tends to say too much at the wrong time. Or so _he_ used to say it. Said it was annoying. 

He only looks back up because Yugyeom is suddenly _really_ close. Leaning closer, making the swing tilt to the side, his face inches from Jungkook’s. He can feel Yugyeom’s eyes on his, the burning sensation of being close, too close, their noses about to touch. He wants to look away, somewhere, _anywhere,_ but he can’t tear his eyes away from red marks on Yugyeom’s bottom lip from where he’s been biting all day.

It’s a very quick kiss. It’s not even a kiss, it’s a peck, something so fast Jungkook doesn’t even have time to close his eyes before it’s over. He feels himself flinch a centimeter back, out of surprise. He feels as if he was struck by a lightning wave. 

Jungkook’s mind is in a puddle. Yugyeom looks at him for what feels like a long time, eyes sparkling with the very last of the daylight. 

A small smile. “Did that feel like a dream?”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook blinks a couple of times, eyes glued to the curve of his lips. “I think you should do it again. Just to be sure.”

He gets surrounded by Yugyeom’s warm giggles, and he feels the anxiousness dissipate from his ribcage. Yugyeom leans their foreheads together as he laughs before planting a quick kiss on Jungkook’s cheek. 

It feels incredible.

Before he can say (or think?) anything else, Yugyeom reaches for something inside his pocket and pulls out a black sharpie. 

“Give me your arm.” 

He's already holding on to Jungkook’s left arm when he asks, but Jungkook guesses he can appreciate the sentiment. Yugyeom pulls the lid of the pen with his teeth with a loud _pop_ and starts writing on the inner part of his forearm, strokes tickling Jungkook’s skin. 

He drops Jungkook’s arm when he’s done, seemingly satisfied with his work. It’s a number. A phone number, Yugyeom’s phone number, with a messily drawn line of Xs underneath. Jungkook takes a good look at them. There’s seven.

Yugyeom has a hopeful look when Jungkook lifts his head and their eyes meet again.

“Let’s hang out this weekend, yeah?” He asks, voice a little hoarse.

Jungkook answers, with a kick kiss of his own instead of words.

X X X X X X X

Jungkook goes back to the studio apartment he shares with Seokjin with his heart in the clouds and a dumb smile on his face. He saves Yugyeom’s number on his sidekick but doesn’t dare to wash out the numbers on his skin – going as far as sticking his left arm away from the water when he’s showering. Seokjin calls him pathetic when they get into bed together. He promptly ignores, lying on his side with his arm out, staring at the seven exes until his eyes fall shut.

“JUNGKOOK!”

He snaps his eyes back open. He’s not at Seokjin’s bed, he’s at Namjoon’s garage. He’s standing up, the weight of the bass hanging on his shoulders bringing him back to reality. Directly in front of him is Namjoon, sitting on the faded bean bag that used to be hot pink, an open notebook on his lap. 

“Dude, you only played one note for that entire song.”

Jungkook turns to the side and finds Hoseok giving him that scary face he saves for the kids working at his family restaurant when they sneak out to smoke weed and don’t invite him. On the drumset behind them, Taehyung is eating cheetos. 

“Sorry,” Jungkook says. “My hand slipped.”

Hoseok’s eyes narrow in a particularly threatening way. He pulls the guitar strap from his shoulder and delicately places it on the holder next to the broken amp. When he turns around he jumps the distance between them, eyes on fire and suddenly standing in front of Jungkook.

“Listen here, Jeon,” he says, forefinger dancing in front of Jungkook’s nose. “This is important! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity!” He huffs out. “Why am I the only one freaking out about this?!” He looks from Jungkook to Taehyung, from Taehyung to Namjoon and then back at Jungkook. Then he grabs Jungkook's collar and pulls him in, shaking him in the process. Jungkook lets out a yelp. “Why?! Why aren’t you freaked out?!”

“I am now!” Jungkook is on his tippy toes, hands coming up in surrender. “What the hell, man! Get it together!”

“ _Maybe,"_ Taehyung speaks up, catching their attention. “We’re not freaking out because we have no chance of actually being invited?”

Hoseok drops Jungkook to point a finger at Taehyung. “Not with that attitude, we don’t!”

As Jungkook had suspected two days ago when he was waiting to see if Yugyeom would show up at the _Smooth Fun Fest,_ Hoseok was well aware of the upcoming JYPE music festival and the band line-up. The sign up was pretty simple, a video submission of a one minute long performance of an original song and a possible setlist. Bands picked out for the second phase would take part in a special “battle of the bands” bulshit concert in a month. Whoever passed was free to join the tour. 

Yeah, a tour. That part was new, recently decided. Jungkook decided it wasn’t worth questioning the logic too much.

Their lead singer had not only signed them up but also cooked up a relentless schedule for rehearsals in case they were miraculously recruited. He was also losing his mind a little bit.

Jungkook picks up the last of the argument between him and Taehyung before Hoseok declares their five minute break is over (“How the hell was that a break?”) and reaches for his guitar one more time. 

“Keep an eye out for your emails,” he says, playing a couple of test notes with his pick. “I gave them all our information. They could get in touch at any moment. Now, from the top! Namjoon, go get your tambourine!”

As much as it’s a long shot, it’s still the closest they’ve ever gotten to an actual chance of getting signed by a big label. Or at least, as far as the band is concerned. Jungkook doesn’t tell Hoseok about Yugyeom, doesn’t tell him that the guy he was thirsting after at the empty pool party is not just some dead-end bassist in a garage band but Kyeom from fucking _Eclipse,_ the biggest act under JYPE.

He’s not saying that he doesn’t trust Hoseok to behave, but that’s exactly what he’s saying. A part of him thinks Yugyeom is just too good to be true and he will keep it to himself for as long as he can if it means avoiding fucking it all up, as he’s known to do. A smaller part of him considers they could, eventually, ask Yugyeom to put on a good word for them with the big boss.

But that’s a very small part and that is a BIG if. They still have a date this weekend, at Yugyeom’s place after Jungkook’s Saturday practice. In the meantime, the rest of the week goes by and Jungkook gets a grand total of seven (7) emails. 

Two from his old highschool newsletter he never remembers to unsubscribe, three different doctors asking if he wants to know the secret of men who were able to increase the size of their dicks, one update from a frerard fanfiction he was reading, and one from _mister_xDKx_18@yahoo.com_ with the subject “IMPORTANT INFO!!! DO NOT DELETE!!!!!!!!!!”.

Jungkook deletes all of them.

It’s Hoseok who gets the reply from the label. It’s Friday night and he sends mass text to all of them to meet at Namjoon’s house so they can open it together.

None of them have anything better to do so the band (and Seokjin, who brought his digital camera to catch a shot of Hoseok’s disappointed frown) gather in a circle around the computer in Namjoon’s family room. Taehyung is trying to act cool but he’s fidgeting just as much as Hoseok. Jungkook doesn’t know what to think. Crazier things have happened. He wasn’t betting on it before but now he’s feeling a little giddy.

Hoseok opens the email.

“ _Ah,_ son of a bitch!”

Seokjin drops the camera on the table and walks away, letting himself fall into the couch.The rest of them share a long, long look.

Taehyung leans over Hoseok and reads the email again, word by word just to be sure. Then he lets out a low whistle. “I guess now we practice?”

Hoseok passes out on the keyboard.

For reasons beyond Jungkook’s comprehension, someone at JYPE watched their video performance and thought to themselves, _this band is promising!._ Seokjin gets his picture of Hoseok before he lets them wake him up and after that, they start arguing about their schedules. Hoseok wants them to quit their day jobs but that suggestion doesn’t go anywhere. 

Saturday night comes and it takes a lot of yelling and reasoning for Hoseok to let Jungkook leave early for his date. He commits to paying for their pizza before leaving and paying for their pizza the following weekend but he's fine with it. He leaves his bass at the garage and takes the bus three blocks from Namjoon's house, Yugyeom's address in a torn piece of paper inside the pocket of his hoodie. 

It's not a particularly good night. The weather had dropped since the afternoon storm and the clouded sky and cold breeze greet him when he hops off the bus. Jungkook hugs himself for warmth, cursing that out of all July days, today is the fucking coldest and the mist of the drizzle that keeps clinging to his clothes.

A grandma on her way out lets him inside the building and it takes Yugyeom seven seconds to open the door after Jungkook knocks. It sounds like a bunch of shit, but Jungkook swears he got even more handsome. 

Yugyeom greets him with a smile. His hair is a little wet and his skin is a little flushed, probably right out of the shower. He's not wearing any earrings or bracelets, face bare and absolutely gorgeous. He's wearing sweatpants and a black tank top, sleeves and collar cut out in messy lines. 

Jungkook's attention gets stuck on his forearm.

"That's new." 

Yugyeom follows his line of sight and a wave of understatement runs through his features. "Ah, this. Yeah." He offers his arm so Jungkook can get a better look, "I got it yesterday."

It's a tattoo of a flower. It's yellow and delicate and Jungkook only notices because it stands out from Yugyeom's black, bold tattoos.

Jungkook's eyes travel from Yugyeom's arm to his face. "It's very pretty."

He gets a bright smile in return. "Thank you!"

A shiver runs down his spine. It’s quick, but Yugyeom notices it anyway.

“Ah, you must be freezing. Come on, let me get you a towel or something."

Jungkook is urged in, leaving his shoes and damp hoodie at the entrance. Yugyeom's apartment is nice, pretty normal and not at all what he would expect from a rockstar. It's neat, well, everything looks too neat, straight out of a magazine. The only things that really look like Yugyeom is the Playstation on the floor and his own bass, resting against the couch.

Yugyeom seems to read his mind again. "It's rented," he explains, gesturing around the empty picture frames on the wall. "It was furnished when I got here. I didn't change anything because I'm just here until the next tour."

He avoids Jungkook's eyes with that last part. He moves to the kitchen before the weight of that can drag for too long. Jungkook waits next to the couch and he feels a little silly. He spent a long time choosing what clothes to wear, making sure his hair was straight and styled the proper way, only to get fucked over by the rain that is barely rain and find Yugyeom looking as beautiful as ever with no effort at all.

Not that he thinks Yugyeom needs to dress up to impress him, he doesn’t really care. Something tells him that Yugyeom doesn’t really care either and that makes him giddy. 

Yugyeom comes back with a fluffy white towel in one hand and a hoodie on the other. Once he has his hair dry and Yugyeom hands him the black and red hoodie, in case he’s still feeling cold. Jungkook isn’t, but he is no idiot. The hoodie fits him like a glove because he and Yugyeom are the same size. The smell of Yugyeom envelops him like a cloud of smoke and Jungkook feels a little light headed.

“Looks good on you.”

“You know you’re never getting this back?”

Yugyeom laughs, taking a step closer and placing his hands around Jungkook’s waist. “That’s okay. It looks better on you, anyway.”

He feels another shiver wave past him, just from being this close. Yugyeom tilts his head at him, rubbing his hand up and down Jungkook’s arms. “You’re still cold?”

Again, Jungkook isn’t, but the look Yugyeom is giving him now makes his brain kind of useless. Maybe if he keeps shivering Yugyeom will cuddle him under the blankets. 

“Freezing.” He says.

Yugyeom leans forward and kisses his nose. "I'm gonna make us some tea, okay?"

At that, Jungkook can only nod.

They both go into the kitchen, Jungkook more out of need than want, and Yugyeom takes his time placing a kettle on the stove. After that, he walks past Jungkook and opens one of the cupboards above the sink.

"I have chamomile, apple and cinnamon, ginger with honey, ginger without honey, sleepy time, blackberry raspberry hibiscus aaaand," he pulls his head out of the cupboard to look at Jungkook. "Earl grey."

Jungkook blinks. "Did you just make some of those up?"

Yugyeom’s eyes glint. “Think I’m gonna have sleepy time.”

Honestly, Jungkook hasn’t drank tea since well, forever, so he has very little opinions. All he knows is that he likes the way Yugyeom smiled when he picked that one, so he goes with it. Jungkook tries to keep the small talk going as they wait, brings up all the dogs he saw this week and Yugyeom is more than happy to oblige with all the dogs _he_ saw that week. Jungkook thinks they might just be a match made in heaven. 

They get their warm mugs and make their way back into the living room, Yugyeom getting comfortable on the couch and patting the spot next to him. They’re still talking about their weeks and there’s nothing too out of the extraordinary. Except, well, the _one_ thing.

Jungkook blows on his tea, the steam too warm for his cheeks. “So you know my band?”

Yugyeom snuggles more into the couch, pillow under his arms. “I know of it.”

“So, weirdest thing happened. We suck ass, but somehow we got a gig?” He gestures his empty hand around. “Like, in a battle of the bands or whatever, a month from now.”

Jungkook takes a sip from the tea and clicks his tongue, not really sure what to make of it. He isn’t used to any flavors that aren’t named after colors or brands. The music on the radio changes, something not as pop-y coming out the speakers. He turns to check on Yugyeom and finds him looking far too interested in the ripples inside his mug.

“That sounds cool.”

Jungkook shrugs it off. “I don’t know how it’s gonna work, but apparently we have to battle other bands every week until the last stop. The winner gets-”

“A label deal with JYPE.” Yugyeom cuts him. After a second, he looks up at Jungkook with a smile. “Yeah, I know.”

For a small moment he’s taken aback – by the interruption and by the fact that Yugyeom knows it –, and then Jungkook remembers he is a dumbass. Yugyeom is under fucking JYPE, of course he knows about the damn tour.

“Ah, right, that’s stupid,” he laughs at himself, looking at his dumb reflection on his dumb tea. “If JYPE is having a music festival then your band is the headliner.”

Yugyeom looks from Jungkook’s mug to his own. “We are. We, um,” he’s tapping his fingers on the porcelain until he gives up and puts the mug on the coffee table in front of them. “We’re playing at the last stop.”

Jungkook’s lips soften into a smile. If _Eclipse_ is playing the last stop, that means it would be the last challenge. He doubts his garage band has any chance against them, but he would love to make it that far, even if it’s just to spend more time with Yugyeom before he eventually slips from his grasp. 

“Maybe my band will play your band.”

Yugyeom doesn’t answer. Instead, he leans closer and into Jungkook’s space, his lips coming to the curve of Jungkook’s jaw and demanding attention.

Jungkook is not about to deny him.

X X X X X X X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dedicate this work to all seven of us who ship yugkook.
> 
> Thank you for reading, see you soon ♡


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, welcome back!
> 
> please bear with me that this is a ride and i need to give myself room to write. i hope you can enjoy this story as much as i enjoy writing it.

X X X X X X X

Jungkook will be the first to admit it, he had not been taking this whole music festival/competition/battle of the bands seriously.

News about it started spreading _fast._ There’s a total of four bands (theirs included) selected for the first round according to the JYPE website, all kept secret for the grand opening. Soon it’s the hottest thing in the scene, talked about on forums and on radio, everyone trying to guess who the lucky bands were. 

Plenty other bands also signed up for the festival. According to the website, any bands not selected for the competition were welcome to perform during the day, opening for the main acts at night. Them, in that case. Absolutely crazy. 

The battle of the bands was a sponsored event separate from the JYPE music festival, by some company called _L.E.E._

 _"L.E.E?"_ Taehyung asks, an eyebrow raised. "The hell does that mean?" 

Hoseok shrugs. "Not a clue. Probably some energy drink, or something."

He also ends up spending more time looking at the spiderweb on the corner of the ceiling of Namjoon’s garage than the sky outside. Between writing new songs, work, practising and generally losing his mind, Jungkook only sees Yugyeom a few times. They text back and forth all day and stay up until late on the phone, or until Seokjin shuts the line himself. 

Yugyeom assures Jungkook he's going on tour with them, his band joining for the second phase of the competition. He doesn't say it out loud but he's relieved to hear it, and even more, it makes him want to win more. Hoseok would skin him alive if he heard.

Jungkook also finds out, a week before they have to leave, that Jackson Wang is going too. He finds out by accident because Taehyung runs into him at the market and Jackson explains to him while they both wait in line for checkout that he had been approached by someone from JYPE to work as a promoter of sorts, someone to help host the event, get the word out, all that jazz.

Taehyung asks who the person was and how the hell they found out about Jackson, but the guy doesn’t have an answer for that.

Does it make sense for Jungkook? Absolutely fucking not, but he goes with it.

The first show is in a neighbouring state, one with actual venues and people. It’s close enough to be accessible from their local station, except they can’t really carry Taehyung’s drum set on the train. It’s a seven hour drive. It takes all their joined savings and some friendly threats but the band ends up with a fucking second-hand motorhome and Yoongi’s mom’s minivan.

The motorhome has a bathroom and a sink, a bunk bed, a couch and enough space for most of their equipment. It also makes a weird noise when it goes up hills and the flush in the toilet doesn’t really work. Hoseok is the only one who has a license to drive it and he takes Taehyung and Namjoon with him.

The minivan has a bobble head pinscher on the dashboard and their old mattress where the backseat should be. It’s Yoongi’s mom’s minivan so Yoongi has to come, and if Yoongi comes then so does Seokjin, and Jungkook has no choice but to crample there with the two of them and the rest of their luggage.

Jungkook thinks there’s absolutely no reason for Seokjin to come but to take up space, but at least it’s one more person to split up gas. 

(Or so he tells himself when he has to hear Seokjin's limited selection of obscure tapes, for the seventh time on a roll.)

They get to site the day before, just around lunchtime. The place is big, an plain open field in the grass and an extense parking space for the bands and staff to set up their buses and vans. There's a lot more cars than any of them anticipated.

It's really hot, too, and Jungkook is already dreading the absolute hell the minivan is gonna be later that day when they go back. They take up three parking spots between them, as close to the line of chemical toilets they dare. 

Most of the booths are still being set up, staff and managers going around and yelling at one another. There's half of a big stage on one side and a smaller one fully built on the far end, probably for the bands not part of the competition. 

The email instructed them to check-in as soon as they arrived to get their equipment and information set up, Hoseok reminds them, and says they’ll get food after they set everything right, no matter how loudly Seokjin protests.

“I am your manager!” Seokjin stomps his foot loudly, hoping for some sort of reaction. He gets none.

“You absolutely are not,” Hoseok replies easily. He has determination written in his eyes and his confident walk, leading their far less enthusiastic group.

Don’t get them wrong, they’re _excited,_ it’s just really hard to actively present it when they are a group of introverts dressed in skin tight black shirts and even tighter black jeans under a bright hot August blazing Sun. Jungkook wipes the sweat from under his fringe with the checkered red and black wristband Yugyeom gave him the week before and curses the weather.

They get to the main square of the venue, where the big inflatable map was set up, as well as the information booths. A bored-looking girl hands them a flyer and half-heartedly waves them in the general direction of the competing bands booth so they can sign in. 

It’s more of a tent, roof and all, and there’s no one there except two guys who look far too fancy dressed to be in a pop-punk-rock festival.

After that, time flies past like a rocket. Jungkook sees himself in line at the closest McDonalds in one minute, inside the shower at the motorhome the second, getting kicked in the shin by Seokjin when them (and Yoongi) are trying to fall asleep on the sticky hot air of a minivan parked on scorching asphalt the third, opening his eyes to Hoseok banging on the window of the car at nine a.m. the next morning on minute four. He doesn’t even see his breakfast, just see minutes five and six on the more and more vehicles parking around them and how the more lively the atmosphere gets and the short three-song-concerts a handful of bands pull, when the sun is still up and people are mostly getting warmed up.

Minute seven is the band on stage, doing a quick soundcheck after setting up their instruments on the main stage, just as the Sun starts to set. Jungkook’s fingernails dig into his palms so he can slow down and focus on the damn present.

Hoseok is talking nonsense into the mic, giving out instructions of where they should stand and how they should act. He’s nervous, Jungkook can tell, and he keeps messing up the notes on the intro of their new song. Taehyung is making up beats to keep himself distracted. Namjoon is stressing behind them, running around checking every single one of the cables, Yoongi following him and fixing whatever he messed up. Seokjin is sitting on top of Hoseok’s amp, drinking diet coke out of a glass bottle with a swirly straw he always carries with him.

As for himself, he’s not one hundred percent sure the situation has downed on him yet.

The _Bullet_ has played concerts before. They played at Hoseok’s restaurant once, for a dozen middle-aged women playing bingo. Last year they played at Taehyung’s younger sister’s homecoming, got ignored by half the kids, but the other half seemed into it. They even play at the college bar every other friday, actually getting a crowd to pay attention.

All those gigs didn’t add up to the amount of people that would be out here today. None of them were serious, none of them _actually_ meant anything for their career. Jungkook gets a feeling creeping up his stomach and he forces it down immediately. He can’t afford to freak out. 

If you ignore it hard enough, it can’t affect you. 

He lets the words repeat inside of his brain and searches for something else to focus on, fingers pulling the strings one by one. He still hasn’t seen Yugyeom, the entire time they’ve been here. The last Jungkook heard of him was a couple hours ago when Yugyeom texted him to let him know he was meeting up with his own band and he would be there for Jungkook’s performance.

(Also, all day Jungkook has been getting texts from Jackson Wang – _how_ is beyond him, since he never gave the guy his number to begin with – asking to meet up, claiming it was important. The seven hundred texts get ignored, naturally, but the memory of them dances in the back of his mind.)

Their soundcheck time is up and the staff ask them to leave, so the next band can set up their instruments too. Jungkook places his bass on the case and the sunset glow makes the dark blue look glittery. The permanent ink sticker with their logo, courtesy of Taehyung, is starting to fade, enough that he can make out the outline of the very same thing he was trying to hide when he put the sticker there. The letters carved by a switchblade, still as visible as when they were made two years ago. 

_J + J._

Jungkook closes the case with a sharp thud. 

He follows the rest of the band backstage and where a staff is checking things off her clipboard as the other gives Hoseok some final warnings, security measures, stuff Jungkook doesn’t care about. He reaches for a bottle of water and tunes out the rest. When they deem everything okay, the one with the clipboard takes them behind the curtains and down the metal steps.

Just as they’re out the back, out of the stage and on the dry grass, the outside lights turn on and the staff notices something in the distance. 

“Ah, just in time,” she pulls the pen from behind her pierced ears and writes something on the clipboard. “There’s the second band, you guys follow the path and you’ll be back at the food court. Don’t do anything stupid. See you back here in three hours.”

There’s a small grumble on his stomach from the mention of the food court but the other part of that sentence sticks out the most. The second band. 

Hoseok takes a deep breath and tells them to follow his lead, moving forward with an unbothered walk that looks anything but natural. Namjoon follows him immediately, a weird walk and all, lanky limbs flailing around. Seokjin pulls out his camera and starts filming, Yoongi walking next to him with his hands in his pockets. Jungkook and Taehyung follow.

From what he can see the group has five people, walking at a comfortable pace side by side, not a single instrument between them. The two guys on the right are walking closer than the rest, one with hair falling down his face and behind his ear typing with one hand and one with a black muscle tee and leather pants. The pretty one is talking, not that the other guy seems to be listening. On the other side is a guy with round cheeks, bored eyes and a Starbucks iced americano on his hand, pastel blue cardigan and a Beyoncé shirt. Next to him is a shorter guy, black hair and pissed off face. 

The guy in the middle is looking forward with a funny face, eyes narrowed as if he’s looking for something very small. It takes Jungkook by surprise how handsome he is, even from this distance. He notices their group then, looks at Jungkook for a moment and his face seems to light up. He starts taking firm steps, leaving his group behind.

Jungkook looks behind himself, looks to the sides, looks for whatever it is this guy is going after with such determination. 

The man stops right in front of him. 

“Hi there!” He says, lips opening in a big, round smile. He sounds melodic and bright, maybe too much, considering the type of music this festival is about. “Jungkook, is it? It’s nice to meet you!”

Out of instinct, Jungkook almost replies, but the words get caught in his throat. He feels his face form a frown against his will when he looks at the rest of the group. None of them look particularly interested in what their friend is doing. The handsome bright man is still looking at him expectantly. 

“Yeah, Jungkook,” he says, despite himself. He’s a little too confused to form thoughts.

Thankfully, Hoseok steps forward to save the day. “Hey, I’m Hoseok.” He goes in for a handshake, which the man accepts. “Are you guys one of the bands competing, too?”

“Yeah, we are!” He nods his head, hair bouncing. “Our group is called _Fast Pace,_ we do acapella rock!”

Okay, Jungkook was a little weirded out before, but now he’s not the only one. He shares a look with Namjoon and all he gets is that he doesn’t know what the hell is going on either. He hears Seokjin muttering a _what the fuck_ from behind them.

The stranger keeps talking, taking a step to the side and presenting the rest of his group. “Guys, this is the _Bullet!_ Say hi!”

Not a single one of the four men behind him gives any indication that they’re interested in making friends. The one on the far right looks like he’s not even there mentally, staring ahead with empty eyes and deadpan expression. The pretty one with long hair is too busy typing on his flip phone to even acknowledge he’s being addressed and the small one pressed against his side audibly huffs out. The last one crosses his arms and cocks his chin, giving the group a glare before he finally opens his mouth. 

“No.”

Well. Jungkook and Namjoon look at each other again.

“Any _way,_ ” Hoseok gives it another try. “Did you guys want to talk? Some pre competition friendly banter?”

The last guy from before laughs out loud at that, elbowing the short one on the side. “Can you believe these buffoons?”

Seokjin steps next to Jungkook, “Wanna say that to my face?"

Jungkook and Hoseok both push Seokjin back to where he was before he can say anything else. The sassy guy blinks his eyes and his lips tremble. He looks like he’s about to open his mouth to retort but the short guy stops him with a hand on his shoulder. His eyes are narrowed though, shooting daggers straight at Seokjin.

“No, no, that’s not why we’re here!” The bright-smile guy waves his hand with a worried laugh, “We don’t want any unnecessary conflict, right?”

Hoseok looks behind his shoulder to send Seokjin a _very_ meaningful look. _Be chill, for fuck’s sake._ Seokjin rolls his eyes and Hoseok turns back to the guy.

“Yeah, of course.” He replies, with a forced smile. “So, should we shake hands and may the best band win?”

“Ah, no, no,” the guy says, sounding a little disappointed. It changes quickly, though, and he nods fervently at Hoseok. “I mean, we can totally do that! I would love to shake your hand in good spirits later!”

“Later?” Taehyung asks. “Why not do it now, since you went through the trouble already?”

The guy blinks up at Taehyung, as if he had only noticed him just then, then he shakes his head. 

“I would, but this is League business. Just between me and Jungkook!” He walks up to their space and reaches to place a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, squeezing a little. His smile could seriously blind someone, all those perfectly aligned white teeth. “No hard feelings, right?” 

Jungkook is, quite honestly, still focused on the teeth. And a little bit on the nose, too. It takes him a few seconds until the words make sense inside his mind.

“Um, what?”

Friendly stranger tilts his head, looking at Jungkook with a confused frown. “Didn’t you get my email, explaining the whole situation?”

Pictures of the past month flash across Jungkook’s brain. It’s all just blurs of his calloused fingers and greasy fast food and the curve of Yugyeom’s smile. He’s not even sure he even checked his emails since before they passed the preliminaries. 

It must show on his face because the guy nods his head in understandment. He takes a step back.

“I’m Seokmin, the Childhood Sweetheart.” He says, and extends his hand for Jungkook to shake. “I’m Yugyeom’s first evil ex.”

A whole ten seconds pass, in complete silence. Jungkook looks at the bright smile, at the extended hand, at the guy’s friends standing in various levels of disinterested a couple of feet behind him. Looks back to the face.

“His first _what,_ now?”

Friendly guy, or, _Seokmin,_ lets out a melodic laugh.

“Well, I’m not _evil,"_ he says, as if he and Jungkook have some sort of inside joke going on. “But I'm definitely his ex.” A pause. “And the first.”

Jungkook has no idea what he looks like right now, but he is pretty fucking lost. His eyebrows are furrowed together and he feels his face in a funny scrunch. Seokmin is still sending him an easy smile and he doesn’t look like he’s lying either.

A quick look around him confirms that the rest of his band are all equally lost. This is some sort of elaborate plan to mess them up before the competition, it has to be. Why the hell else would some random guy walk up to him claiming to be the first ex of his secret crush.

“Keep looking, diet coke, maybe this way you’ll learn some class.”

Jungkook looks back just in time to catch the sassy guy taking a sip of his iced americano.

Seokjin is already moving forward again. “The fuck did you just say to me?”

“I said,” the guy takes a determined step forward, cardigan falling on the side of his shoulder. “Keep watching me. Maybe you can learn some class.”

“Well, maybe I can take that americano and shove it right up-”

“ALL RIGHT, that’s enough!” Jungkook pushes Seokjin to the side, Taehyung doing the same thing. He turns to Seokmin. “What the fuck you mean you’re Yugyeom’s first ex?”

Seokmin tilts his head, as if Jungkook is the one talking nonsense all of a sudden. He shares a quick look with his band before moving Jungkook to the side with him. 

“Sorry about Seungkwan,” he points behind himself, at the sassy Starbucks guy. At the mention of his name, Seungkwan scoffs. “And well, I mean exactly that. I’m Yugyeomie’s ex.” He adds with yet another grin.

Jungkook looks behind his shoulder at Hoseok and all he gets is a shrug. Seokmin waits for some sort of different reaction and his smile falls the more he doesn’t get it. Jungkook honestly doesn’t know what to say. Congratulations? He’s not about to say Seokmin isn’t a good looking man and if he wasn’t himself dating Yugyeom he would try to get his Myspace or something and-.

“I’m the first of his exes that you have to defeat.” Seokmin interrupts his thoughts before they get out of hand. “Did you really not know about this?” He frowns. “I was so thorough on the email.”

Again, Jungkook has no idea what email that is, but he will check his trash can as soon as he gets to a lan house or something. For now, he’s a little stuck on the _defeat_ part. The entire month has been running past him like something out of a movie, he feels like he should start laughing at how absurd this whole thing is. 

“Jungkook, fucking _finally!”_

Both the _Bullet_ and _Fast Pace_ turn their heads to the new voice. It’s Jackson Wang, jogging up to their impromptu circle. He stops to catch his breath. “I’ve been texting you all day, man!” He’s panting. “Did you drop your phone in the toilet or something?” 

That’s when he sees the other group. He recognizes them immediately, which honestly, doesn’t surprise Jungkook in the slightest. “Ah, hey Seokmin! I see you met Jungkook already.”

Oh, _that_ surprises Jungkook. 

Hoseok hands go to his hair, in distress. “Can someone _please_ explain what the hell is going on?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do since I got here.” Jackson takes the bottle of water Namjoon had been holding for the past half hour without asking. Namjoon doesn’t move a muscle. “But _someone,_ ” Jackson not so subtly looks at Jungkook. “Refuses to pick up their phone.”

“Well, no time like right now.” Jungkook says. “It seems like everyone knows what’s going on but me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jackson takes a long sip of water. “You know about the main sponsor of this event right? _L.E.E?”_

Jungkook swallows down. “I know of it.”

Seokmin points at himself, excitedly. “That’s us!”

The short guy from Seokmin’s band crosses his arms. “He doesn’t speak for the rest of us. We have nothing to do with it.”

So what Jackson’s saying is one pretty guy with a pretty band and a pretty smile is the main sponsor of a huge music festival by one of the biggest labels in the industry. That makes even less sense.

“What does _L.E.E_ even stand for?”

It’s not Jackson who answers, and it’s not Seokmin either. It’s Taehyung, as if the thought that had just occurred to him was the most obvious thing on the planet. “League of Evil Exes?”

Seokmin’s smile turns impossibly brighter. “Exactly!”

Okay, now Jungkook knows he must have drank way too much at the empty pool and this whole month has just been one long, _really_ weird dream. He looks around again, for some sort of explanation or any support whatsoever. He ruled out Seokmin and Jackson as people with any sense, but the guys from the other band are acting as if this happens every other week. 

But, for some reason, a significant part of him doesn’t really want to question this at all. He’s feeling a little conflicted.

“Fine,” Jungkook sighs, finally. He figures the more he knows the better. “You’re from an evil league of ex boyfriends and you want to fight me,” he turns to Jackson. “But why are _you_ here?”

Jackson bumps the empty water bottle on Namjoon’s chest. “Recycle this, will you? The Earth needs us.” 

Namjoon lets out a choked up noise that _could_ pass up as a yes. Jackson is satisfied enough. He turns back to Jungkook. 

“I was contacted by the big boss at JYPE. He said the League needed someone to make sure things were going smoothly,” he explains. “I’m the mediator of the Battle of the Exes. A judge, if you will. I’ll be here with you as long as you make it to the finals.”

“The finals?” Hoseok butts in. “You mean, of the band competition?” His voice gets more stranded with each word. _“Our_ finals?!”

Jackson is quick to pick up on the danger of Hoseok’s tone and he is smart enough to take a couple of steps back. “Yeah, your finals. If Jungkook defeats the League, your band gets to sign under JYPE.”

Hoseok’s entire face goes white and he stumbles to the side, Yoongi catching him before he falls on his face. Taehyung picks up the line-up sheet they were handed by the staff and uses it to blow air on their leaders face. Seokjin is too busy glaring at Seungkwan to do anything. Jungkook feels an acid taste at the bottom of his throat. 

“Am I the only one who thinks this is absolutely insane?” He snaps, turning on his heels so he can look at each person. Seokmin has joined in the fanning of Hoseok, who is back on his feet and taking a sip of Seokjin’s coke. The rest of _Fast Pace_ don’t bother to even acknowledge Jungkook’s outburst. 

Everywhere he looks he meets pairs of unimpressed eyes, none of which even half as confused as they should be. It’s like Jungkook is the weird one.

When no one takes his side, he turns back to Seokmin. He’s starting to feel a little delusional. “So now what, I have to fight you for Yugyeom?”

Jackson clears his throat. “Well, not _fight,_ not exactly.” He waves his hand around. “The challenge is up to you.”

Jungkook feels his mouth dry and takes the coke glass bottle for himself. It has barely enough for a decent sip. 

Next to him, Hoseok clicks his tongue. “Yugyeom, Yugyeom,” he wonders out loud. “Why the hell do I know that name?”

Yoongi rubs the sole of his vans on the grass and everyone turns to look at him. “Isn’t that the bassist from _Eclipse?”_

It’s almost comical how Hoseok’s eyes widen in slow motion. Jungkook can practically see the train of thought running through his brain. He has half a mind to hand the empty bottle to Namjoon before he is grabbed by the collar of his shirt, _again._

"You've been dating the bassist from _Eclipse_ all this time,” he shakes Jungkook as if he’s ready to throw him over his shoulder. “And you didn't tell me?!" 

From the corner of his eyes he sees Seokmin’s band looking at them as if they’re animals, which, well, he can’t blame them for. His heart is beating so fast he thinks it might just jump out of his throat at any second. It was all fun and games when he thought this was a joke but the more he asks the more serious it gets.

He looks from Hoseok to the group and then back at Hoseok. "Can we do this later?!" He’s a little breathless, too. Shit, he had no idea how affected he was getting. “Please?”

Hoseok narrows his eyes but lets himself be pulled when Taehyung places a calming hand on his shoulder. Jungkook stumbles a little and his hands go up to adjust the fabric around his neck, trying to get some room to breathe. He forces his eyes shut, pressing his palms over the lids until they hurt. It’s a long shot but maybe if he wishes hard enough, when he opens his eyes he’ll be back in Namjoon’s garage, looking at that same spiderweb.

Takes him a couple of seconds to adjust to the light when he opens his eyes back, but when they do he notices the Sun has set. The sky is a clear shade of purple and the first stars are just beginning to appear. The outside lights of the festival are on, shining brightly on them. Jackson is still there, and so are Seokmin and the rest of his band. The _Bullet_ are all looking at him, different levels of concern in each of their faces. 

None of this makes sense, but there’s two things that matter at this point. He can’t date Yugyeom unless he defeats Seokmin. His band can’t move to the second phase if he doesn’t defeat Seokmin. They hadn’t even gotten a chance to play yet.

Jungkook groans out loud. “All right. Let’s just get this over it.” He pushes the fringe out his eyes. He hadn’t even noticed it was sticking to his forehead. “How do you want to do this?”

Seokmin’s eyes fire up immediately. “Me, personally, I’d rather we did this in a peaceful way!” He shrugs. “I would love to let you win, I have no desire to meddle in Yugyeom’s love life, and you seem like a nice guy!”

His smile looks genuine enough. Jungkook doesn’t really want to, but it’s hard not to trust someone this friendly.

“If you think like that,” Taehyung asks. “Then why are you in this League in the first place?”

There’s a pause and something different runs through his eyes, something serious. It’s gone as soon as it comes, smile taking over his features once again. “They made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.” 

The guy from Seokmin’s band who was yet to show he was even listening adds, “And we get free pizza.”

Seokmin and the others nod in agreement. Honestly, Jungkook doesn’t know if he wants to laugh or cry at this point. It’s true that neither one of them (except, perhaps, Seungkwan and his sassy iced americano) has true intent on giving Jungkook any trouble. If this is a challenge then this is the first level. Maybe it’s supposed to be easy.

He’s kind of regretting not picking up Jackson’s calls from earlier. No matter how smart you think you are, skipping the tutorial always comes back to bite you in the ass.

“Why don’t we do rock-paper-scissors?” Seokmin suggests with a quirked eyebrow. “I suck at those.”

“You can’t be serious.” Hoseok lets out a disbelieving laugh. “You really think we’re gonna bet our label deal with JYPE on rock-paper-scissors?”

Jackson shrugs. “Anything is game.”

It sounds dumb, sure, but Jungkook is feeling compelled to just accept. He has fighting skills, good ones, but he’d rather not have to fight for his life. He’s not exactly lucky either but nothing a best out of three can’t fix. 

He’s about to agree when they’re interrupted by Seungkwan, again.

“What are you, a bunch of cowards?”

A little bit, Jungkook thinks to himself, but not fast enough.

“What, you wanna go?” Seokjin retaliates, already puffing his chest, as if _he’s_ the one supposed to fight. “Jungkook can defeat your guy with an arm tied behind his back!”

Jungkook tries to shove him back again, sending out prayers that the other guy doesn’t take it to heart. “Seokjin, CHILL OUT!”

Unfortunately, it doesn’t look like Seokmin can really control his bandmate, either. "Oh, yeah?" Seungkwan waves his iced americano dangerously over his head. "Why don't we end this with music, if you're so fucking brave?" His eyes flash and his smile is sharp. "Note battle. Whoever can hold the highest wins."

The hand Jungkook has on Seokjin’s shoulder relaxes a little because, well, that’s absolutely lame and there’s no way anyone would agree. Seokmin will laugh with his perfect teeth in display and then politely lose to Jungkook in rock-paper-scissors and-.

"Oh,” Seokmin lips take a shape of small _o._ “That sounds like fun!"

Shit. He doesn’t mean it, does he? That’s the lamest thing on the planet. Jungkook makes a point to furrow his eyebrows very determinedly at Seokmin so he can get the idea, but the man is too busy giving Jackson an excited nod. 

Jackson winks at Seokmin and then turns on his heels, quite dramatically, to face Jungkook. "A challenge has been proposed!" 

Shit, shit, shit, he can’t let this madness get out of hand. He watches as Seokmin extends his hand for a sealing shake and shakes his head. "I'm not a singer!" 

In order to do so, however, Jungkook has to let go of Seokjin. To his horror, Seokjin takes full advantage of it to step forward and take Seokmin’s hand on his own. "You're ON!" 

Their firm shake seems to be enough for Jackson, since he proudly declares: "Challenge accepted!"

Jungkook feels his soul about to leave his body. 

"SEOKJIN!"

The man in question looks back over his shoulder, not a visible worry in his features. He’s looking at Jungkook as if he’s making a fuss for no reason. "What?"

Shit again, a thousand times shit. The gears of Jungkook’s brain start spinning at lightning speed, anything to get him out of a fucking note battle. Jackson has got to take his side, as the only authority here. Right? 

Jungkook pushes Seokjin out of the way, coming right into Jackson’s space. "He can't accept challenges for me!"

The look on Jackson’s face _does not_ look promising. If anything, he looks a little bit amused. Jungkook feels his stomach twisting. 

"Sorry, Jungkookie, he's part of your team!” Jackson places a reassuring hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “He can one hundred percent accept challenges for you!”

The hand on his shoulder does not one bit of the reassurance it’s supposed to. Jungkook feels himself deflate a little bit. The battle has not started yet but there’s no way in hell he can win against someone from a stupid acapella group. 

“Hey, no need to look so sad!” Jackson gives him a little squeeze and shakes his shoulder. “Like I said, you’re a team! You can battle as a team, too.”

Slowly, the bits of his soul find their way back into Jungkook’s body. Oh. _Oh._ That changes things a little bit. He lives with Seokjin, he’s heard the high notes he bolts out for fun in the shower. He still has a small chance.

And, okay, he might have been exaggerating before. Jungkook may not be a singer but that doesn't mean his voice is bad. When he was a kid he was even in the church choir, sitting in white robes singing words he didn't understand. His voice is not bad, good even, lacking some minor training but definitely promising. Of course, not enough to hold a note high enough to beat an acapella singer.

Seokjin, however.

The specifics of the battle get lost in the background as Jackson leads them through the wire gates out of the backstage area. They walk back towards the tents, where they first saw the information booths and the circular podium surrounded by colorful lights and flags.

Before he knows it it's him, Jackson and Seokmin up there, standing side by side under red and blue spotlights. A small crowd gathered around them, most looking more bored than curious. The _Bullet_ and _Fast Pace_ are all there.

At one point, Jackson gets himself a microphone and starts addressing the grand total of twenty-something people watching. Jungkook figures he should start listening at some point or another.

“Okay, here’s the rules!” Jackson turns from the half audience to face Seokmin and Jungkook, voice echoing through the speakers. “You will take turns, start low and raise the note each time around.” 

He sounds awfully serious. As if this is a Sunday gameshow and he is the host in a shiny suit. Jungkook peeks to the left where his supposed opponent is but Seokmin is too into Jackson's speech to notice him.

"You are both allowed two teammates to help you take turns!" Jackson says, in a dramatic voice. "Choose wisely!"

Before Seokmin can even open his mouth Seungkwan is already climbing up the podium, iced americano discarded at some point. After a _very_ powerful pout from Seokmin, the short guy follows, hands shoved inside his pockets. Once they're settled, Jackson lends Seungkwan the microphone so he can introduce himself to the (slowly decreasing) crowd. 

"My name is Boo Seungkwan, I'm twenty-one, every single one of your bands suck, except for mine." He very elegantly shakes the hair out of his face. "I am the best vocalist of this generation. Thank you."

From below them, Seokjin boos. 

Before Seungkwan can do anything about it Jackson pulls the microphone back and turns to the audience. "Everybody give it up for Seungkwan!" A few people clap, not many but definitely more than Jungkook was expecting. "And now for the third and final member of the _Fast Pace_ team!"

Jackson passes the mic to the other guy.

"I'm Woozi."

And then he hands the mic back to Jackson.

It's Jungkook's turn to choose teammates and much like his nemesis, Seokjin doesn't need to be invited. He makes a quick introduction ("I'm not even in a band but I can sing better than you") and Jungkook rushes himself to make a decision. The obvious choice is Hoseok, being their vocalist and all, but the one to volunteer first is Taehyung. Jungkook wants to question it but he stops himself, vaguely aware of Taehyung's classical music training. 

Another round of introductions and Jackson does his best to hype up the few people still around to listen. He brings Jungkook and Seokmin closer to the center and makes them shake hands. His palm is sweaty but Seokmin is too nice to say anything about it. He looks more excited than nervous and Jungkook can't say he shares the feeling.

"I declare now the first battle between Jungkook and the League of Exes!" Jackson says when they let go of each other, voice dripping with excitement. "May the best note win!”

No one cheers to match up Jackson’s enthusiasm, but that’s not surprising. The seven of them stand in a half circle, Jackson in the middle with the microphone held forward, so it picks up on all of their voices. He tells Seokmin he should go first, and he does. It’s stable and low and Seokmin doesn’t look like he’s trying at all. 

Jungkook’s knowledge of music is extremely limited, but he can hold a decent note. He figures it’s for the best that _Fast Pace_ is going first because it will give him a comfortable margin until they go around again and the notes start to get too high for his range. 

Now it's his turn. Singing a note slightly higher than Seokmin's isn't a big challenge, even if Jungkook isn't vocally trained. For now he can rely on his own vocal chords. He sings a clear note, holding it for a couple of seconds and gaining a pack on the back by Seokjin in approval.

Woozi is next, and Jungkook expects for his next note to be only slightly higher than his own. Instead, what comes out of his mouth is in a pitch that Jungkook isn't sure he'll be able to match. Woozi's natural tone should have prompted him on his vocal range, but he didn't expect for him to go that high already. He feels like he's already screwed, already out of the challenge.

Seokjin follows quite easily, as Jungkook knew he would, raising his right fist at Seungkwan and using his left hand to turn an imaginary lever next to his thumb, his middle finger raising with the note. A couple of people laugh from the audience, but Seungkwan is not amused. He takes a step forward and loudly clears his throat, puffing out his chest.

Seungkwan straight up goes a full tone higher. He belts out with such an intensity Jungkook feels it vibrating it in his veins, his voice loud and clear. Jackson claps appreciatively and at any other instance Jungkook would join him but, right now, all he can focus on is the sweat dripping down his temple.

This is it. He's fucked, the _Bullet_ is fucked, they're absolutely fucked and they didn't even get a chance to play and now they have to go home and Hoseok is going to kill him for losing and-.

With a note so high Jungkook never thought it could come out of his mouth, Taehyung cuts his internal freak out. Jungkook gasps, out loud, watching as Taehyung sustains it as if he does it for a living, eyes closed and head tilted.

Jungkook is not the only one who's impressed, a handful of people in the crowd who bothered to pay attention letting out surprised noises. Hoseok looks so stressed he might pass out. Jungkook feels pretty much the same. 

When he's done, a slither of hope spreads across Jungkook's chest. There's no way Seokmin can top that, not unless he's a dolphin. But then again, if he does, Jungkook is screwed.

All eyes turn to Seokmin as he rubs the palms of his hands, excited. His eyebrows are furrowed in concentration and he doesn't look like someone who's about to forfeit. Jungkook holds his breath.

Seokmin takes a deep breath in, and then open his mouth to let out a belted note so powerful and high in pitch that it makes the whole audience flinch, hands coming up to their ears. It sounds crystal clear, Seokmin's voice overpowering and so strong that Jungkook takes a few steps back, eardrums ringing.

It lasts longer than the others, too, almost as if the note has a mind of its own. It's the most impressive and terrifying thing Jungkook has ever witnessed.

And then, without a second of warning, the empty bottle on Namjoon’s hands snaps in a thousand little pieces, glass flying everywhere.

There's a sudden silence, people with their hands on their ears gasping from the sudden burst, a couple of yelps. Jungkook peeks one eye open and looks around, checking to make sure everyone is okay. Namjoon looks absolutely stunned, but otherwise unharmed.

"Okay, that was really fucking dangerous!" Jackson says, after a couple of seconds. "Let's never do that again!" 

Seungwan stands back from where he was crouching behind Woozi. "Does that mean we win?"

Jungkook blinks and rubs at his ears until they stop ringing. He checks around himself and it doesn’t look like any glass came their way. Seokmin looks apologetic, hands draped over his lips as if he was surprised by his own voice. From the audience, Hoseok dusts off imaginary dust from his shirt and is up on stage in less than a second. 

“Absolutely not!” He says, determined. “That has to be against the rules! You’re jeopardizing people’s safety, here!” 

The pretty guy from _Fast Pace_ comes up to the podium, too, followed by his quiet friend. Jungkook doesn’t know any of their names. “That’s bullshit! This is a battle to the death, safety is the least of our concerns!” Pretty guy retorts, already coming up to Hoseok’s space. “That means Seokmin wins, and you can kiss your competition goodbye, pretty boy.”

(At first, Hoseok is speechless at being called ‘pretty boy’ by a _really_ pretty boy, but he recovers before anyone notices.)

“In your dreams!” Hoseok insists, and before Jungkook knows it his entire band is on stage and he’s crowded by the _Bullet_ and _Fast Pace._ “That’s only valid for Jungkook! If you harm the audience, that’s gotta be against the rules!”

That starts an even more heated discussion, Hoseok and Seokjin trying to out-talk pretty boy (Jeonghan, someone supplies) and Seungkwan, all of them collectively trying to convince Jackson of their own agendas. Jeonghan argues that Namjoon is not part of the audience but part of the band and, therefore, susceptible to the dangers of the battle. Hoseok opposes that Namjoon is not an official member of the _Bullet,_ making that irrelevant. Namjoon opens his mouth, likely to bring up his tambourine playing, but Seokjin shuts him up.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough!” Jackson pushes them apart, placing himself in the middle. “Shut up, all of you! I need to think!”

Both bands quiet down, retreating to opposite sides. Now that the spotlight isn’t as blinding on his face and he’s not feeling his stomach quite literally turning on itself, Jungkook notices that the number of people watching them has doubled. Well. It was less than twenty people, now it’s probably around thirty – not exactly a crowd. 

He focuses back on the podium, where Jackson is now tapping the microphone and making sure all eyes are on him. 

“As mediator of the Battle of the Exes, I have made a decision to declare that a foul.” Jackson announces, tone final. _“Fast Pace_ is now disqualified from the competition, which means...” he points at Taehyung, who had his pinky rubbing at his ear. "Taehyung held the highest note!"

Jackson changes the hand holding the microphone to reach for Jungkook's, lifting his arm above his head. “Jungkook is the victor of the first battle! The _Bullet_ is now qualified for the next phase!”

It’s become a trend the past month or so, for the things happening to Jungkook not fully register in his brain for a couple of seconds, as if he’s expectating his own life. The sounds pass his ears as if filtered underwater and the images tending to blur together before coming into focus. Jungkook runs his eyes through the small crowd, some clapping and some booing, some not sure what they’re doing there in the first place. 

And that's when he sees him, standing by himself further back than anyone else, almost hidden by the shadows. His skinny jeans and XS shirt, the unmistakable face even hidden under a black baseball cap. A shy but earnest smile on his lips.

Yugyeom.

Jungkook doesn't have time to react because Seungkwan has now resorted to yelling at the top of his lungs.

“THAT’S FUCKING RIGGED!”

He gets caught in the middle of a heated commotion between the bands and Jackson and Yugyeom is gone by the time he looks back up. He wriggles his way between Hoseok and Seokjin and rushes out of the podium.

It's only when Seungkwan’s curses are too far to be fully understood and he's craning his neck for a glimpse of Yugyeom that he notices the set of footsteps following him closely. 

It's Seokmin. Jungkook slows down to let him catch up.

"Hey, sorry about up there." Seokmin says, bumping shoulders with Jungkook and making them both stop. They're near the food court, close to hear the faint chatter and see the trucks and booths, but far enough that the people around are few. Seokmin offers him a flustered smile. "I got a little carried away."

Jungkook wants to correct him and say that was far from _a little,_ but he settles with a smile to match.

"That's okay. No harm done, I guess." He chuckles, twisting his nose. "Well, just to the glass. That's an impressive set of lungs you have."

He gets a display of said lungs with another one of Seokmin's wholehearted laughs. "Thanks, but I'm really glad you won." He says. His eyes are soft under the artificial lights, it sparks a warmth through Jungkook's chest. "You seem like a really nice guy, and I think you and Yugyeom can make a really cute couple.”

It's funny to Jungkook that he can't seem to catch a single trace of dishonesty in Seokmin's voice, even if they're supposed to be rivals. He's a little taken aback, but he appreciates the sentiment nonetheless.

"Thank you," he breathes out, and it feels like it's the first one in hours. "I was just, really surprised. I wasn't expecting this at all, I'm still not fully sure I understand what just happened." Jungkook's also not sure why he's dumping his thoughts like this but Seokmin is nodding in understatement. It's comforting, so he keeps going. "I feel a little betrayed, it's not fair that I didn't know! Yugyeom should have warned me, at least." Jungkook rubs his hands across his cheeks, tired. "Why didn't Yugyeom tell me about all this?"

Seokmin looks beyond him, at a fixed point behind Jungkook's head. His smile broadens, if that's even possible, and there's nothing but fondness in them. 

"I have a feeling you're about to find out." He says.

Jungkook tries asking what he means but Seokmin is already moving away, walking at a tranquil pace back the way they came from. He watches as he leaves, wondering if being unnecessarily cryptic is a trend no one told him about. 

When he turns around, Yugyeom is there. He’s got both hands gripping at the side of his pants, looking at Jungkook as if he’s not sure how to approach him. He’s wearing the cap in a way that covers most of his face, his eyes hidden from view. It’s understandable.

“We need to talk,” he says. 

It’s not a question, but he looks like he’s asking, anyway. Jungkook slowly nods his head. Yugyeom’s eyes dart around them, to the people walking by and the music coming from the food court. He looks uncomfortable, that’s clear. He bites his lips, nodding so Jungkook will follow him. Jungkook does, neither of them saying a word. 

Yugyeom is leading him to the parking lot, where there’s significantly less people. He makes a point to take wide steps and keep his head low, probably because this is a JYPE music festival and Yugyeom was bound to be recognized by someone sooner or later. They walk past about four cars and then two more before Yugyeom deems them 'alone enough'.

He's fidgety and it's not something Jungkook is used to. He knows Yugyeom as someone who is confident, playful, sure of himself; he's a little lost, but that's the last thing that should be in his mind right now.

"So, um," Yugyeom offers him a strained smile. "You met Seokmin."

Jungkook rubs his forearm, not sure what to do with his hands. "That I did."

It's a weird situation to be in. He wants to ask and he wants to demand answers but at the same time he can see how hard this is for Yugyeom, so he forces himself to be patient. Yugyeom takes a deep breath.

"I'm glad you defeated him," he admits, quietly. "I didn't doubt that you would. Seokmin is a good person, he doesn't really want to be part of all this."

At that last part, Yugyeom gestures around vaguely. Jungkook hadn't noticed his heart was beating fast until just then, when it pangs gets a little too harsh. By 'all of this' he figures Yugyeom means the music festival, the battles, the League. Yugyeom is leaning against a black van, one with a logo from a food-chain. He's shrinking into himself, looking almost small. He doesn't know what to make of this.

Jungkook settles for watching the light reflecting from the studs on Yugyeom's belt. “Seokmin said he’s your first ex boyfriend.” He says.

Yugyeom looks at the ground for a stretched second, nodding slowly. "Yeah. We dated for about a week, when we were both thirteen." The memory seems to hit him, then. A smile appears on his lips as his eyes are lost on a random point, focused on the past. "It was actually kinda cute," he admits. "We kissed once and thought that was all, broke up and went out for ice-cream with his older sister."

It does sound cute, Jungkook thinks, his brain providing him with a blurry picture of what a thirteen-year-old Yugyeom could have looked like, holding hands with a Seokmin of the same age. He smiles too, involuntarily.

Something about it very faintly overshadows the anxiety bubbling at the pit of Jungkook's stomach. Not enough, though.

"The League." He says. Makes sure there's no room for question on his tone.

Yugyeom lets out a breath and takes off the cap, running his hand through his hair. Then he looks up at Jungkook, eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm sorry, I can't stop them. I wish I could, but I _can't."_ Yugyeom says. He sounds tired, frustrated. "They have a bigger influence than you realize. I'm bound, there's nothing I can do."

Yugyeom shakes his head, his voice failing at the end of the sentence. Jungkook tries to reach out on instinct, but Yugyeom takes a step back before he can. "They're all bound, all of us, we have no choice. He's controlling all of us."

The tone of his voice stops being tired and gets laced with anger. Yugyeom starts pacing on the short space between the parked black van and a silver car. Inside Jungkook's brain there's a siren flashing red, a loud cry for answers and a heavy weight of being tired. He ignores all of it.

"Who?"

Yugyeom lets out a tired laugh. "Who what? Who's a player or who's the game?"

It's not the reply he was expecting, and it shocks him a little bit. Back when he saw Seokmin and his band for the first time, Jungkook was confused. At the podium, surrounded by strange people and no explanations, he was mad. He didn't acknowledge the feeling for what it was, but it was clear now. He was feeling anger, at the situation, at Seokmin, at Jackson, at _himself_ but, above all, he was mad at Yugyeom.

But hearing him now, seeing the look on his face, Jungkook knows this is something Yugyeom has no control over. Well. It should've been obvious, because if this is an inconvenience to Jungkook then he can only _imagine_ what it's like for the one most involved.

He feels bad for feeling bad. There's too many conflicting emotions for him to keep track.

"Jackson was supposed to explain the basics, but I guess I'm the one who has to do it now." Yugyeom dumps the baseball cap to the side and bites on his bottom lips, as if he's considering something. After a beat, he looks back at Jungkook. "I suppose it's my responsibility, isn't it?"

For lack of a better response, Jungkook nods.

And then Yugyeom tells him. Tells him about the League and how it consists of the people he's dated over the past decade, and how they're all part of the bands playing the music festival. He says the tour is nothing but a decoy for the battles, that the League has close ties to JYPE and that's why every single one of them is signed under the label. He keeps it vague, for Jungkook's benefit or his own, he can't tell, but he doesn't ask either.

Jungkook doesn't know how long has passed when Yugyeom stops, looking at him carefully through his fringe, biting the side of his lip where the black ring is. It's a lot of information in a short span of time.

"So, um,” he lets the thoughts gather in his brain. “Now I have to fight-"

"Defeat."

"Defeat,” he corrects, with a blink. His head hasn't stopped pounding ever since he first heard the words 'evil ex' when he was backstage. “Your seven evil ex boyfriends."

Yugyeom doesn’t miss a beat, "Seven evil exes, yes."

Jungkook lets out a long puff of air, falling forward to lean his hand on his knees. Yugyeom is next to him in a second, hand gingerly over his back, as if he's not sure he's allowed to touch Jungkook. It's a little heartbreaking, but he's too busy making sure his lunch stays inside his stomach to say anything about it.

Instead, he lets himself slide down to a seating position, back pressed against the side of the silver car. The asphalt feels warm beneath his jeans, aftermath of the scorching heat. Waking up in the minivan that morning feels like a different lifetime.

Once he gets his breathing back to normal, Jungkook crosses his legs and leans his head back into the car, feeling the warmth of Yugyeom's body when he sits down next to him. He waits a long while before he speaks up again.

"A little heads up would've been nice."

He hears a choked up sniffle. “I’m really, really, sorry," Yugyeom's looking down, at his own hands. He sounds small. "I know I fucked up, I fucked up bad. I didn't mean to leave you to fall head first into this."

He's not crying, not that Jungkook can see, but he sounds almost broken. He says nothing and waits for Yugyeom to keep talking.

"I thought we'd have more time," he admits, voice barely a whisper. "I was trying to keep you for myself for as long as I could.”

The last words hit him a little too hard.

Jungkook knows the feeling way too well. He wanted to keep Yugyeom a secret from his band, a secret that was just his and no one else's. He knew that the second someone found out, their relationship would change into something they couldn't control. He can't find it in his heart to blame Yugyeom for it. He understands.

He doesn't say it, though. He reaches for Yugyeom's hand and gives it a firm squeeze, hoping it passes the message. A small smile appears on Yugyeom's lips when he smiles back.

“So," he lets his hand slide from Yugyeom's, falling back to the warm asphalt. "Who’s next?”

Yugyeom brings his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them. “His name is Minghao, the Summer Fling.”

The names are funny, he'll give the League that. Jungkook breathes in slowly and asks Yugyeom to tell him about Minghao. By the strain on Yugyeom's voice when he said the name, Jungkook is willing to bet this second relationship didn't end as well as the first one.

“We went to the same Summer Camp when we were sixteen,” Yugyeom says, looking straight ahead. The logo painted on the side of the van has mud stains on it. “It was a two month program for dancers.”

Jungkook tries to picture it and it comes pretty easily. Yugyeom, a little shorter and skinnier, face red from running around under the Sun. Jungkook wonders just how good of a dancer he was, or still is.

“We met on the first day,” he continues. “Got paired up for the warm up and didn’t split up until the day was over. We were both over the moon when we found out we got the same cabin.” A small smile appears on his lips, Yugyeom doesn’t seem to be aware of it. “Some nights, we’d sneak into the teacher’s lounge to steal beer. Then we would go down to the lake, drink and make out under the stars.”

There's a faint trace of longing in the words coming out of his mouth, mixed with something darker. Jungkook braces himself.

"What happened?"

Yugyeom takes his time to decide on what to say next, words seemingly getting stuck at the tip of his tongue.

"We lived in different states," he says with a sigh. "When our two months were up and we left camp I went back home and, uh," Yugyeom forces his eyes shut, refusing to face Jungkook. "I never ended things with him."

Oh. Jungkook already dislikes where this is going.

"We kept in touch. We would have phone calls every other night, send emails back and forth, it was nice." Yugyeom opens his eyes only to rub at them with the heels of his hands. "I started seeing someone else. I didn't tell him."

Jungkook's jaw hurts from how hard he’s gritting his teeth. He's not mad, not at all, but hearing about it brings him an uneasy feeling. Brings back unsettling memories. He doesn't need to ask to know the details from that story.

"How long?" He asks.

Yugyeom turns to lean his cheek over his knees, looking straight at Jungkook. "Three months."

Jungkook lets out a long breath. Jesus.

"I was young and stupid." Yugyeom spits out, burying his face between his knees. His voice is a little muffled when he keeps talking. "I regret it, I can't believe how much of an asshole I was to Minghao. He didn't deserve it."

Jungkook can't find it in himself to disagree. His first instinct is to tell Yugyeom that no, he's not an asshole, but it's true. It's a horrible thing to do to someone, even more someone you seemed to care about. As far as he knows, Minghao had every right to be mad at Yugyeom.

It does something inside him, something he was missing the past month. It puts a dent to the perfect image he had painted of Yugyeom in his mind, makes him less of a greek god and more of a human. Jungkook shakes his head, laughing at how stupid he was being. You can't put someone on a pedestal and then get mad at them when they don't meet your impossible expectations.

On the other hand, he doesn't think Yugyeom is a bad person, either. He sounds sincere when he says he regrets it, and it's enough for Jungkook.

He waits for a particular thought to make its way into his mind, but it doesn't come. By the strain on Yugyeom's muscles, he must be waiting for the same thing. For the coin to drop. For Jungkook to decide Yugyeom is not worth the trouble, to say it was good while it lasted.

"So, what's supposed to happen now?" He asks, instead.

Yugyeom raises his head and looks at the undone shoelaces of Jungkook's dirty All Stars, to avoid looking at his face. "It's the same deal. If you defeat him, your band can stay in the competition.”

He doesn’t say the second part, the ‘and we can keep dating’, but Jungkook hears it loud and clear.

Again, he waits for the thought to come raining down and flood his mind, take over the stupid feeling and tell his heart this is too crazy and he should be running the opposite direction. He wonders if Yugyeom brought up the _Bullet_ as a way to make the deal more appealing to Jungkook, as a way of saying 'if you won't do this for me, at least do it for your band.'

Jungkook doesn't like that assumption, so he throws it out of the imaginary window of the metaphorical house in his brain.

The intrusive thought doesn't even make it past the front porch.

What does worry him, though, is how hard these battles are going to get. He can't count on all six exes being as friendly as Seokmin. He's willing to bet Minghao is still really pissed off and will not go down without a fight. It was sheer luck that he won the first round, he can't even begin to imagine how the next one is gonna go.

In the distance he can see the dancing lights of the main stages, across the parking lot and the food court and it makes him want to roll his eyes. He had completely forgotten he's supposed to play a setlist of six songs before the night is over.

Which reminds him, this is a Battle of the Bands. Minghao is part of a band, too.

“Do we have to play against his band to win?”

Next to him, Yugyeom shakes his head. "Not necessarily. You can challenge him to anything you want and he has the choice to accept or refuse. Same goes for you.”

Something tells Jungkook Minghao won't be so inclined to play rock-paper-scissors. He lets out a long sigh, the sixth just the past ten minutes and lets his head fall to the side, looking at Yugyeom. At the very least, he's made a decision.

"I think I have about an hour before I'm supposed to be on stage."

Yugyeom nods his head, not really sure on where Jungkook's getting at. He looks cautious. Jungkook can understand it, he would be too, but he wants to tell Yugyeom he has no reason to be.

So, he says what he's been meaning to say all day.

“Can we make out until I have to go?”

At first he's met with a silent look, but it only takes Yugyeom half a second to meet him halfway when he leans in.

X X X X X X

The feeling of Yugyeom's hand in his makes walking back inside the festival venue a lot easier. Not only had he gotten kisses (rushed, warm kisses, hands under shirts and tangled between straightened hair), he also got information about Minghao to give him the upperhand.

His band is called _No F.U.N_ and Xu Minghao is the guitarist. It's your regular pop-punk band, same as _Eclipse_ and the _Bullet,_ and Jungkook is glad to find out there's no acapella singers in that group. Just Minghao and three other guys, a chinese bassist, a kid behind the drums and a weird guy for a vocalist.

(Yugyeom calls him weird because he has a thing with tigers. Jungkook tries to ask but the shudder that runs through Yugyeom's body when he says it is answer enough for the time being. He does mention it to Seokjin when he meets back with the band, because they can both laugh about it.)

That is, after Hoseok all but rips him a new one, yelling to anyone who will hear that Jungkook will _not_ run away from the fight, he will win the next battle or he will die trying, and then hands him a turkey sandwich and a Capri Sun. He is pushed to sit down next to Yoongi and Seokjin, who are also eating, while Hoseok directs his energy towards Yugyeom, instead. It's funny, at least, and Jungkook settles for smiling at his boyfriend _(!!!!!!)_ from behind Hoseok's shoulder, the artificial taste of strawberry kiwi taking over his tongue.

Jackson is there too, and so is Seokmin and the rest of _Fast Pace,_ all parties significantly calmer now that the first battle is over. He learns that even if defeated, Seokmin’s band still has a spot on the tour and they can play smaller sets as long as the competition is happening. Jungkook is glad, he thinks he and Seokmin can be friends when this is over. Yugyeom doesn’t seem to mind having his ex here at all, greeting him with a warm hug. Seungkwan is still very much annoyed, if the pout on his lips is anything to go by.

“So what you’re saying is,” Seokjin deadpans. “I have to keep asking this Hoshi character about his _tiger inside.”_

Taking the last bite out of the sandwich, Jungkook nods. It’s just a hunch, but he thinks he has a plan this time. 

Minghao is dangerous, for starters. He looks skinny and weak but he is anything but, martial arts training and a couple of weapons up his sleeve, not to mention being able to hold a grudge for so long. Jungkook has a black belt and he’s not afraid to use it, but he’s rusty and not really interested in getting his ass handed to him. He’s deadly as long as he’s focused, and that’s where Seokjin comes in. 

_No F.U.N’s_ vocalist, better known by his stage name Hoshi,is notorious for his obsession with tigers. He wears the stripes proudly as mandatory uniform and poses almost exclusively with his fingers curved in a paw shape, as well as growling for ad-libs. He’s harmless aside from the small detail that whenever he pulls the tiger act, it drives Minghao absolutely insane. 

The plan is simple. If Seokjin can get the guy excited enough to roar or something, it might distract Minghao for a second, enough for Jungkook to knock him down. 

In theory, that is. He’s kind of hoping for the best here.

When Jungkook first meets Minghao he’s a little stunned because of how cute the guy is. He’s lean and tall, powerful stare and pretty eyes. His band is walking closely behind him and Jungkook spots the vocalist immediately by the skin tight tiger print pants, bleached white hair and mesh shirt. Minghao completely ignores Yugyeom when he walks past him. 

Jackson greets the vocalist as if they’re old friends and so do the other members of _Fast Pace_ – all of them being from the same company, it’s not surprising they know each other. Hoshi is next to the annoyed short guy attempting to chat him up in less than a second, getting not much in return. Jungkook pokes Seokjin with his elbow as if to let him know that the guy in the tiger pants is his target, not that he needs to. He looks back up just in time to see Seokmin walking up to the band with a smile and, instead of glaring like Jungkook thought he would, Minghao smiles warmly at Seokmin. Huh.

Seokmin whispers something close to Minghao and his ice cold eyes snap sharply to glare straight at Jungkook. A shudder runs down his spine.

He doesn’t have time to shit his pants, Jackson already tapping on his microphone to gather people closer to the smaller stage, where he’s standing with Yugyeom and the other bands. In front of the stage Jungkook stands on one side, Minghao on the other. They’re in the middle of a clearing of people, surrounding them in a wide circle. Jungkook has an awful feeling he’s about to hear the rules of Fight Club.

Jackson announces the second battle to the audience and it’s not much different than the first time. Minghao hasn’t stopped glaring at Jungkook from the second they first looked at each other and Jungkook doesn’t know what to do with himself. He keeps turning to steal nervous glances at the stage, sees Seokjin already next to Hoshi and sending a thumbs up back. Hoseok is biting at his nails, glued to Taehyung’s side. Yugyeom is biting his bottom lip, looking between Jungkook and Minghao with a furrowed brow. Seokmin is next to Yugyeom, rubbing reassuring circles on his back. That calms Jungkook a little. Maybe half than a little.

“So, boys,” Jackson’s voice echoes through the speakers and Jungkook snaps back to the fight. “What’s it gonna be?”

Jungkook looks back at Minghao and his fancy haircut, his fancy clothes and the fancy looking nunchucks attached to his leather belt. Absolutely not.

“Um, how about we settle this in a friendly arm wrestle?” He asks, forcing out a smile. Minghao may be scary but there’s no way he is stronger than Jungkook is.

Minghao scoffs, “How about we don’t.” It’s not a question. Jungkook swallows down. It was worth a shot. “You’re a big guy, but I’m not going down without a fight,” his eyes flash with something dangerous. “Let's make it quick. We fight. If you fall down, you have ten seconds to get up. If you don’t, I win.”

He speaks as if he’s already won, and Jungkook feels his knees wobble. It’s not a bad suggestion, though – he was half expecting Minghao to propose a match to the death. Ten seconds, that he can handle. He just needs to buy himself enough time for Seokjin to get under Hoshi’s skin. 

“All right,” he breathes out. “I’m in, under one contition.” Minghao raises an eyebrow at him, curious. Jungkook eyes his belt again. “No weapons allowed. Just you and me.”

For a quick second he wonders if Minghao is going to back out, but his opponent lets out a small laugh, pulling the nunchucks from his belt and dropping them to the side. 

“You’re on.” 

Minghao doesn’t wait for Jackson to start the match. He dashes across the clearing in the blink of an eye and all Jungkook can register is the gasps of the crowd and a blow at his abdomen, the kick sending hard on his back. 

He grits his teeth and feels the dried grass on under his head. His stomach hurts from the impact but he can’t focus on it, counting down the ten seconds on his head. Jungkook leans over his elbows and forces himself up when he gets to six seconds. 

All right, then. If that’s how Minghao wants to play.

Jungkook tries to filter out the cheering from the small crowd, the people around them not spread enough that they have space. Jungkook cracks his knuckles against his hips, watching Minghao match his steps as they circle each other on opposite ends of the clearing. Minghao is smart and he’s fast and Jungkook doubts he’ll get a decent hit if he goes in head first.

Minghao doesn’t wait for him, charging forward almost immediately, aiming low, for the kneecaps except, this time Jungkook sees it coming. He twists on his feet, a little messy but enough, just as Minghao’s extended foot comes close enough for him to block with one hand. He’s in a weird position to do anything more than dodge. Minghao digs his heels on the grass and spins, his palm extended sharply right at Jungkook’s face. He’s not fast enough to protect himself, feeling the sharp hit on his forearm and his unsteady legs keeping him standing.

Shit, Jungkook’s rusty. 

Minghao’s charges again, straight ahead this time, way too fast. Jungkook moves backwards as he blocks blow after blow, Minghao taking swings with each step and no breaths in between, palms and fists and elbows and each is sharper than the other and Jungkook is struggling to keep his breath, vaguely aware of the people around them giving them more space as they go. 

The last one catches him off guard, Jungkook doesn’t see it, he just feels the slashing hot blow to the side of his hip, the way his knee turns the wrong way, his jaw snapping from the heavy combat boots, the side of his face burning against the dirt on the floor. Jungkook coughs out, testing to see if his mouth still works. The loud reaction from the crowd rings over his head.

He’s fine, he’s fine. He can see Minghao from the corner of his eyes. He wastes no time, using his arms to propel his torso up, rolling up just in time to avoid getting kicked again. He’s on his feet the next second, Minghao hot on his heels. 

His vision is limited, he’s focusing on how fast and how easy Minghao spins around him. He can pick up the grace of a dancer in Minghao’s movements. The curves of his arms when he spins are almost mesmerizing. The throbbing on his skin when Minghao hits him, not so much.

He gets trapped in his own movements again, Minghao taking full advantage of Jungkook’s disorientation and using his strength against him, his grip locking on Jungkook’s arm. He feels a sprain on his elbow and snaps his eyes shut, pain making its way out his throat, and he’s twisted through Minghao’s body, back on the floor. 

Jungkook tries to groan, but his voice comes out strained. He can taste blood between his teeth, dirt clinging to his sweaty clothes.

From above him, Minghao lets out a scoff. Jungkook can’t see him against the light.

“Is that really all you got?”

Jungkook lifts his arms over his head and rolls backwards, back to standing. Minghao rolls his eyes, but the crowd finds it impressive enough to cheer. He regrets not warming up before this fight, but he had no way of knowing it would happen in the first place. 

He can see the stage behind Minghao’s shoulder and it’s only now that he notices Jackson narrating their fight. He can’t hear it, anyway, so it’s not a problem. He sees the look on Hoseok’s face and Jungkook would be touched if he thought that was _actually_ for his safety and not the future of their band. His eyes roam for Seokjin, and from the quick second he sees them, Hoshi seems to be way too into the fight to pay Seokjin any mind. Fuck. 

And the last one he sees is Yugyeom, looking down at him with a worried frown. It’s a little too far but he sees it quite clearly. Yugyeom doesn’t look like he thinks Jungkook can win.

That does the trick.

He snaps back just in time to catch Minghao’s arm when he goes in for a hit, gripping hard enough so Minghao is stuck for a split second, his other hand coming with a closed fist that catches Minghao off guard, sending him falling backwards. He doesn’t go down, though, holding his body up digging his nails on the grass and forcing a stop. 

Great, now he looks mad. 

It does get the adrenaline surging through him in fast bolts, almost electric, and he starts moving faster than his own eyes can follow, using his brute strength against Minghao’s cunning attacks, managing to take the hits mostly on his two feet. 

He feels less at a disadvantage now but in no way close to winning. Jungkook manages to hit Minghao a couple more times, using his shoulder to block anything that comes too close to his face, getting a nasty scratch from the ring on Minghao’s pinky finger.

He gets knocked down, and he gets right back up.

A kick to his lower stomach, a throbbing pain going down his left leg and his nails digging at the fabric of Minghao’s shirt to bring him down with him. He barely registers the screams coming from around them (Hoseok? Someone else?) and he catches a glimpse of _No F.U.N’s_ vocalist, his attention on Seokjin, talking with a shy smile on his face. Shit. Could that be it? 

Another blinding pain to the bridge of his nose and Jungkook kneels down, a kick from the side sending him rolling face first into the dirt. He was distracted by a fraction of a second and Minghao made sure he paid for it.

_Fuck._

His head hurts from the impact, from getting hit too many times. Jungkook rolls on his stomach, forces himself to rise on his hands and knees. A drop of sweat slides down the bridge of his nose and tints the dry dirt a shade darker. It taunts him a little that Minghao refuses to talk to him, standing tall and looking down at Jungkook as if this is a waste of his time. That’s okay, though, Jungkook can take it. Just a little more, he needs to last just a little more. 

It’s harder to get up this time, but he does. His lower back cracks and he takes a deep breath. He’s gonna be useless tomorrow, he can already tell. He wants to check in on Seokjin again, yell at him to hurry the fuck up, but the stage is behind him and he will not make the same mistake again.

(Faintly, Jungkook wonders if Minghao would have killed him if he had the nunchucks.)

Once he’s more or less grounded, Jungkook runs head first. Not the best approach, he knows, but he takes Minghao by surprise and grabs him by the waist for long enough to launch him over his shoulder. Minghao doesn’t get knocked down, not surprising, but he rolls over on his stomach to avoid getting kicked by Jungkook. He thinks his hearing might be working better, he’s sure he can discern certain words being screamed at them. Jungkook gets punched in the face again, retaliates with a blunt jostle and Minghao gasps for air. Jungkook definitely has the upper hand when it comes to strength. 

Minghao has him in a weird position again, a weird angle and a stinging blow and Jungkook is on the ground again. He’s not quick, he rolls to the side but Minghao is on top of him, straddling Jungkook between his legs to keep him on the ground, his right arm stuck at a twisted, painful fold under Minghao’s knees. The pain clouds his thoughts, he can’t concentrate enough to free himself. 

Jungkook is struggling to breathe, Minghao’s other knee weighing over his chest. He’s swinging his left arm aimlessly, trying to hit something, anything, but he _can’t breathe._ He sees flashes of Minghao’s faces and the blood dripping over his eyebrow, the lights from the venue. Minghao grips him by the hair and forces him down when he tries to get up, his ears are ringing each time his head hits the ground.

He’s trying to count the seconds in between thuds. He can’t. The screamings of the crowd are filtered out as if underwater.

Minghao stops. The weight on his chest lets off a little and Jungkook draws in a deep breath. He looks up and finds Minghao not looking at him, but glaring at a point beyond them. He looks furious, face red from the fight and hair sticking to his skin.

Jungkook tempts a glance in the direction he’s looking at, and he can’t see much from where he is, but he sees enough to know that this is his chance. Hoshi is crouched down, posing for Seokjin’s camera.

Minghao is shaking on top of him. “What the fuck are you doing?!” He screams. 

It lasts barely a second, but Jungkook feels the grip on his hair loosen. He doesn’t waste it. 

He grabs Minghao by the neck and twists them in one swift movement, making sure to not let go of his arm when he pushes Minghao face down, pinning his arm behind his back and his entire weight to keep him in place. 

Minghao squirms under him, screaming and kicking his legs, but it’s no use. Jungkook is a lot broader and heavier, and he’s hellbent on winning this fight. His muscles hurt from being stranded but he doesn’t bulge

His senses catch up to him just in time to hear Jackson’s muffled countdown.

“Six, five, four,” Minghao kicks his extended leg, but it only makes Jungkook pin him down harder. “Three, two… The battle is over! Jungkook wins!”

Jungkook lets go of Mingao and falls down to the side, next to him. His back hits the ground and he closes his eyes, chest moving rapidly up and down. He can’t believe his stupid plan worked. He has white spots spark in his vision when he blinks to adjust his vision. He feels several sore spots across his body, but nothing too painful that he should worry. He’s fine. He’s alive. He won.

Next to him, Minghao is rustling to stand up. Jungkook thinks about doing the same but he’s being pulled up before he can by arms he can’t quite see the bodies from. He’s put on his feet and someone is brushing the dirt from his clothes and murmuring encouraging words, _Hoseok,_ and Jungkook feels himself relax a little. 

Little by little the blurs around him begin taking shape. Their groups are all here, Seokmin’s included, some congratulating Jungkook and some trying to keep Minghao from killing his bandmate. 

“ONE DAY!” Minghao yells, trying to scratch at Hoshi, who is hiding behind the kid from their group. “I asked for ONE DAY!”

“Ya, don’t be like this!” Hoshi yells back, smiling even though he looks a bit scared. “You didn’t want to win that much, why are you mad?”

Minghao huffs loudly and shakes himself free from the two people who were holding him back, Namjoon and the other guy from _No F.U.N._ Seokmin approaches him with careful steps, a bag of popcorn in one hand and a bottle of water on the other. Minghao gladly accepts the water and lets Seokmin talk to him quietly. 

A hand waves in front of Jungkook’s eyes and he blinks, turning to focus on it. 

“Hey, Kookie,” it’s Hoseok. “Are you listening to me?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked how you’re feeling,” he frowns, his hand still hoovering by Jungkook’s side as if he’s worried he might fall. “Are you too hurt? Anything broken?”

He takes his time moving around his limbs to be sure. He bends his knees and extends his fingers and toes. Nothing hurts _too_ much, so he doubts he got any serious injuries. He tells Hoseok as much and the vocalist deems him okay enough to stand on his own.

Seokjin takes a step closer to him in the small circle and Jungkook almost hugs him.

“Thank you, fuck,” he says, “You saved me back there.”

His friend shrugs, “You’re welcome. It was hard to get him to pay attention, but once he did,” Seokjin takes a pause to roll his eyes. “I couldn’t get him to shut the fuck up.”

Yoongi stares ahead, eyes narrowed. “I heard things I wish I could unhear.”

That brings a chuckle to the bottom of Jungkook’s throat. He lets his eyes roam around their gathered group, looking at the familiar faces and the ones not so much. He’s looking for someone in particular, but he finds nothing. He locks eyes with Taehyung, standing opposite of him.

“Yugyeom?” He asks. 

Taehyung shakes his head, “He was called by someone from JYPE. He did see you win, though.”

Jungkook exhales, chest feeling heavy. He can’t help but to feel disappointed, but his mind supplies him with the memory of Yugyeom saying he doesn’t get much choice when it comes to this. Now that he thinks of it, Yugyeom also left after he won the first round, maybe he gets summoned by the big boss. Whoever that is.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Hoseok, for fuck’s sake.” Yoongi snaps. “That’s the fifth time you asked him that. Go get him an ice pack, or something.”

It’s not a bad suggestion, actually, so Hoseok takes it. He drags Taehyung along with him and Jungkook finishes his water, watching them leave. Namjoon is too busy talking to Jackson and Seokjin is in the middle of what looks like a discussion with Seungkwan from _Fast Pace,_ again. 

Yoongi suggests they head back to the parking lot so Jungkook can take a shower and change. As grunge as a music festival can be, no one wants to play their first concert in sweat drenched clothes stained with dirt and dried up grass. Jungkook is about to agree, but he sees Minghao walking his way, a determined look on his eyes, Seokmin following close after.

“You lost, you know that, right?” Minghao spits out. “You lost that match. This is all Hoshi’s fault.”

Jungkook takes a small step back, Yoongi staying by his side. The last thing he wants is to start another fight.

“Is this really necessary?!” Seokmin asks, sounding a bit exasperated. Minghao ignores him.

“Listen here, Jeon,” he jabs at Jungkook’s chest with his finger. “I’d be a lot more careful if I were you. You got lucky with me, and you got lucky with Seokmin.”

Jungkook’s hand comes up to rub the sore spots, a little at loss of what to do here. Mostly because _it’s true,_ he got damn lucky. He’s going to have to try harder if he wants to defeat the remaining five exes.

“That’s enough, guys.”

A body appears between them, forcing both Jungkook and Minghao to take steps backwards. It’s a man, Jungkook hadn’t noticed him approaching. Now that he looks at him, he’s honestly surprised he didn’t see him from a mile away.

He’s tall. Taller than Jungkook, taller than Namjoon, taller than all of them. He has broad shoulders, tan skin and ashy grey hair falling over his heavy eyeliner. He’s wearing light washed jeans with more holes than fabric, a lot more thigh than a sane person can handle. His chest and arms fill the plain black tee just enough to leave very little up to imagination. Jungkook feels his lips dry.

The guy smiles apologetically at Jungkook before placing a hand over Minghao’s shoulder. “It’s okay, it’s done.” He says in a smooth, deep voice. It sends shivers down Jungkook’s spine. “No need to make a fuss over it, right?”

“Don’t make a fuss?” Minghao drags his eyes from Jungkook to glare at the stranger. “I was _winning._ This guy is a wuss, he doesn’t deserve to keep going.”

Again, Jungkook wants to feel offended, but he kind of agrees. 

“Hey, come on,” the man lets out a chuckle, still focused on Minghao. “You don’t want to be a sore loser, do you, Hao?”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow. _Hao,_ is it?

Minghao scoffs at the guy and pushes past them, elbowing Jungkook in the process. Him, personally, doesn’t condemn the action given they were at each other’s throats not five minutes ago. 

The tall stranger shakes his head like a disappointed father, small smile on his lips. He calls out for Minghao to wait for him and sets out to follow him. Before he leaves, though, he turns to look right at Jungkook and winks at him.

When they’re far enough from where he is, Jungkook lets out a breath he hadn’t noticed he was holding. Shit.

“Who the hell. Was _that."_

He also had not meant to say that out loud, but Seokmin hears him anyway. He shoves a handful of popcorn into his mouth before scooting closer to Jungkook.

“That’s Kim Mingyu, The Boy Next Door," he says between chews. "He’s Yugyeom’s third evil ex.”

X X X X X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i will see you soon, and if u leave a comment that's very sexy of you!
> 
> p.s. if it sounds like jungkook has a gay crush on all of yugyeom's exes, that's because he has!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome back. armycarats this one's for you.

X X X X X

Yugyeom finds him a while later, when he’s fresh out of the shower and stepping out of the motorhome. He congratulates Jungkook with a tight hug and a peck on the cheek before he drags him by the hand back to the main stage area. 

The air feels fresh now that it’s night time, a cool breeze following them out of the parking lot. Yugyeom updates him on the way, that they’re headed for the main stage area where _Fast Pace_ is getting ready to perform, followed by _No F.U.N_ and leaving Jungkook and Mingyu for last. 

Yugyeom also tells him about Mingyu. 

He skips the parts Jungkook already knows, that it lasted around three months after Yugyeom went home from the summer camp, both of them sixteen. That it ended pretty much the same way the relationship with Minghao did. He starts by saying Mingyu had just moved to the house next to his and their windows faced each other. 

“He’d come over sometimes,” Yugyeom explains with a youthful grin, just as rushing past people across the food court. “He would throw five pebbles on my window. A little unnecessary, if you ask me, but it was still cute.”

Yeah, it was pretty cute, but it’s not really helpful information, not if you’re about to fight the guy. He doubts Mingyu will throw rocks at him. Still, Jungkook takes Yugyeom’s hand in his and tells him to carry on, while they still have time.

The first thing Jungkook notices when they get to the stages is the significant increase in people compared to barely an hour ago. It’s not as huge as crowds he’s used to seeing in music festivals or concerts but it’s surely more people than the _Bullet_ has ever played for, combined. Spread on the field looking up to the main stage there’s probably five hundred people or more. The mere thought of playing makes the Jungkook regret that turkey sandwich.

He doesn’t have time to worry about it, though, because Yugyeom keeps pulling him through the smaller groups of people, dragging them closer to the stage so they can see it comfortably. They’re about halfway towards the stage, stopping before the people are too crowded together, not too close and not too far. Jungkook can see the stage clearly, and one of the staff from earlier introducing the band.

It's _Fast Pace._ He can tell before she says it for the lack of instruments on stage and Seokmin's unmistakable wide smile. She says they'll be on in five, as soon as the sound engineers finish running tests. The group looks relaxed, Woozi moving in easy steps from one side to the other, Seungkwan spinning the wire of his microphone and pretty Jeonghan still on his phone. Jungkook can't deny he's feeling a little curious, he has no idea what to expect from an acapella rock group.

Next to him, Yugyeom resumes his story by confirming what Jungkook had already suspected, that he broke up with Mingyu a little after he broke up Minghao.

"He was upset at first, but he forgave me." Yugyeom says, leaning closer so Jungkook can hear him over the vocal warm-ups Seokmin is doing on stage. "I moved away two years later. The night before I did, Mingyu threw rocks at my window to say goodbye."

The last bit is said with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. Around them the crowd is slowly hyping up, the murmuring growing louder and more excited. The members of _Fast Pace_ have all assumed their positions behind the microphones, standing side by side in a line, Seokmin in the middle. Yugyeom has more to say, that much is clear, but he offers Jungkook an eyebrow raise towards the stage, saying it can wait.

It's a short setlist, three songs for each of the groups Jungkook defeated. Seungkwan is the one to introduce himself and the others to the audience, the quiet one Jungkook doesn't much care to learn the name pulling the first note of the song. It's... different, that's for sure.

He's not saying they're bad, not at all, it's just he never in his life thought he'd be witnessing.

The crowd seems into it, though, so who is he to say anything? He can't deny that they're all great singers, voices coming together to mimic different sounds and instruments as if it's nothing. What takes him by surprise (Jungkook and the entire fucking audience, that is) is the complete one-eighty turn the song takes the second Seokmin opens his mouth.

Jungkook doesn't know what he expected, but it sure as hell wasn't for bubbly, harmless, Seokmin to belt out a screamo song.

He watches flabbergasted, for a lack of a better word, as Seokmin runs around in the stage, spitting loud and angry words into the microphone, strong growls spreading louder than the screams of the audience.

"I like Seokmin." Jungkook blurts out, before he can stop himself.

Yugyeom laughs, "I like him, too. He's fun to be around."

The band keeps up their setlist, Seokmin getting angrier and more impressive as the song goes on, sweat glistening under the spotlight and his face red from the effort. The song is not something Jungkook recognises, probably something original from their band, but he finds himself bobbing his head along to the rhythm. The guy he doesn't know the name runs hand to mess up his hair and the flex of his muscles makes the crowd cheer louder.

The transition between that song and the next is almost seamless, Jungkook only notices it because Woozi moves a step forward and takes on the role of vocalist, the agitated and angry rock song slowing down and settling into a soft balad. The stark difference of what's being performed spreads a silence over the audience, Woozi's clear and swift tone swimming with the other member's harmonizing. It's a beautiful song and the emotion behind the voice to match the heartbreaking lyrics sends chills down Jungkook's spine.

The combined voices and sway of notes, vocals getting stronger and more desperate as the song goes are hypnotizing. It's not a heartbreak song like most heartbreak songs are and something about Woozi's glass voice and the way his eyes are shut when he sings, immersed in his own words, makes Jungkook feel like he's the one watching his feelings slip from his fingers and hoping it's enough for his love to listen.

He doesn't dare say a word until it's over, his lips burning from the dryness. He barely even registers it's done when the group are leaving the stage and Yugyeom pokes his arm, asking if he's okay.

The band leaves the stage followed by the claps of the audience and the staff from earlier takes their place, announcing a fifteen break before the next performance – Minghao's band, _No F.U.N._ After the whirlwind he just watched, Jungkook has no idea what kind of song to expect from them, aside from his battle, and it's not like the name of the band doesn't paint a very specific image.

"Before, just after I won the battle," Jungkook begins, waiting for Yugyeom to show that he's listening before continuing. "Mingyu showed up to calm things down, when Minghao was still mad at me. Mingyu called him Hao."

"Ah, that sounds just like him."

"I thought he and Minghao wouldn't like each other." Jungkook admits, in a quiet voice.

Yugyeom hums. "They didn't, not at first. It's been a long time and, well," he turns to send Jungkook a half-smile. "Mingyu can be really charming."

He only met the guy for five seconds, but Jungkook can't say he disagrees.

The interval goes by fast, and before he knows it the staff has already finished placing the instruments and ended sound tests. Jungkook sees them walking into the stage one by one, the kid with the drumsticks and a black button up practically bouncing on his feet followed by the tall guy who looks like he walked straight out of a Disney movie and into a My Chemical Romance concert, long hair parted to cover half his face. Minghao is the last to come in, stepping in quietly after Hoshi has made his grand entrance, waving at the crowd and throwing kisses left and right.

The band settles in their spots behind their instruments, the drummer kid doing a quick beat to get the hype up and Minghao running the pick through the strings a couple of times. He doesn't look like he's mad anymore, just a bit jittery but that's expected.

Hoshi takes the microphone from the stand and pulls it close to his lips, a playful smirk on his lips when he greets the crowd. He's asking how everyone's feeling, teasing some of the groupies at the front roll and getting people to scream at the top of their lungs. Jungkook feels the excitement from a concert that's about to start but the freezing feeling that he's supposed to do the same thing soon stops him from getting too into it. Hoshi is great on stage, he'll give him that.

Drumsticks bump against each other five times as the kid counts down, and the song begins. The guitar is familiar to Jungkook, Paramore's Misery Business getting the crowd to sing along instinctively. Hoshi sings the words as if he's dancing with the mic, saying he's got someone's man right where he wants him, and how good it feels.

Yugyeom is singing along, not as excitedly as the rest of the audience, but more than Jungkook is, at least. He's glad to see Yugyeom having some level of fun and he hates to interrupt it, but Jungkook guesses that, after the day he's had, he's allowed. He does wait until the first song is over, the band sliding into something unknown and no less upbeat.

“And the guy from your band?”

Yugyeom snaps to the side so fast his hair flies. “What are you talking about?”

Some of the people jumping along to the performance get a little too close to Jungkook's side but he knows that if he doesn't ask now he never will.

“The guy from your band. The one people say you had a huge fight with.”

Jungkook knows this because he read about it, back when he first looked up who Kim Yugyeom was. At the time he thought nothing of it, figuring magazine tabloids and conspiracy posts about a huge fallout between Kyeom and some other person from _Eclipse_ were just the kind of made up story that sold.

But now, the sudden coldness that covers Yugyeom's features is more than enough answer.

“He’s a friend,” is the reply he gets, and nothing else.

With that Yugyeom turns away from him, arms crossed over his chest and eyes on stage. Jungkook winces at himself because he knows he pushed a boundary here, touched a sore spot, and now Yugyeom is feeling defensive.

He figured asking about exes was something he was allowed to do, since he had to defeat them all. But still, he should've known better. Some break-ups hurt more than others and no one likes to have the nastiest ones brought up.

Jungkook wonders if he could do it, if he could handle being around all of his exes like this. Not that he has many, three he actually considers relationships and the other two nothing more than casual hook-ups.

The more he thinks about it, about how much it must be taking out of Yugyeom for putting on a strong front, he knows the answer is no. He wouldn't last a day being around _him_ like this.

A guitar solo breaks out on stage and Jungkook shales the memory out of his brain.

He had forgotten about the group, too immersed in getting information out of Yugyeom to really listen, and he's pleasantly surprised. They're good, a much easier listen to Jungkook's uneducated ears than _Fast Pace._ The kid with the button up is doing some serious work behind the drums, hair flying aimlessly as he bops his head to the beat, a bright smile on his lips.

Hoshi is flying across the stage and interacting with the crowd as if they’re part of the performance, bleached hair sticking to his skin with sweat as he growls the lyrics to his song. The outfit doesn't seem so out of place now, his flashy look fitting just right with his persona.

Their combined energy makes the stage feel like it's on fire, but it's the other two that are really something else.

Jungkook watches Minghao smile, _really_ smile, at the guy behind the bass. They’re playing facing each other, the bassist making funny faces and Minghao’s eyes sparkling as he bursts into a fit of giggles. It's so different from the vivid memory Jungkook has in his mind, the calculating steps and the cold stare.

"None of them are really evil, are they?" He says, voice too quiet for the loud volume.

Yugyeom hears him, anyway.

"No, they're not.” He sighs. Jungkook turns to face him, but Yugyeom is still focused on the band playing. “Minghao hasn't really forgiven me, but he's not a bad person.” Right on cue, Minghao joins Hoshi in the chorus of the song, singing the words as if he doesn't have a care in the world. Yugyeom bites his bottom lip. “This is just a bad situation that we’re stuck in."

At the same time, the bruises on Jungkook's skin tell him that maybe Minghao enjoyed beating him up a bit too much, but he keeps it to himself.

Even if his head is a mess with the avalanche of mixed feelings, Jungkook forces himself to enjoy the rest of the performance. He knows jumping around and screaming would help him blow off steam and loosen up, but he can't bring himself to do more than moving his head to the beat and clapping when Hoshi sings a cool note or Minghao gets lost in a sick solo.

Their setlist ends with a wave of applause and a drum solo. Hoshi does his tiger pose at the many BlackBerry cameras pointed at him and Minghao is too busy waving at the crowd and basking on the adrenaline to be mad about it. As the band is doing their goodbyes, Yugyeom takes Jungkook's hand in his and says they should be making their way backstage, since his performance is next.

And that's when the nerves go through the roof. Each person Jungkook bumps against on their way there is someone who's going to watch him play, and he bumps on _a lot of people._ Yugyeom pulls a credential out of his pocket when they get to the bouncers but the security guy ignores it completely, likely recognizing his face from the big posters scattered across the event.

(The _Bullet's_ poster doesn't have their faces, just a very mediocre collage Jungkook made using WordArt for a title, some royalty-free pixelated image of a bullet and a Paint drawing of their logo.)

He wonders how his band is doing, how badly Hoseok must be freaking out and even why in the hell his phone isn't exploding with texts and missed calls from his bandmates until he realizes, dumbly, that he left his sidekick on the stained sink of the motorhome.

He also wonders why he doesn't have a credential, but he can't be bothered with that now because he spots flaming red hair, and that usually means Taehyung.

Seokjin is the one who sees him first, saying something Jungkook can't hear from the distance between them and the Avril Lavigne song that's playing as an interlude between the performances. A handful of heads turn his way, all of his band plus Yoongi, and he takes a total of five steps before Hoseok tackles him on a hug so tight it makes the blows he took from Minghao feel like tickles.

At least Hoseok isn't mad, he's just glad Jungkook didn't trip and die somewhere. He's freaking out, Jungkook was right about that, and he's shaking from head to toe.

It's just them and some staff from the festival on this side of the off-stage, people moving around with lanterns and wires and talking to their headsets. It still blows Jungkook's mind the magnitude of this and especially now that he knows that it _is_ kind of his fault since he decided that he and Yugyeom were meant to be. He voices it out loud – not really meaning to, mumble of words coming out of his pouted lips – and Yoongi reminds him, very helpfully, that there's no point stressing over such a small detail.

Well. That's true.

Yugyeom walks close to him when he moves to get out of the way of the people working the stage, standing next to Taehyung. Someone approaches the band and starts giving them directions, stuff about the lights and their instruments. The interlude music ends just as Jungkook picks up a bottle of water, too warm to drink.

Someone walks up to the center of the stage from the opposite side. Jungkook can't see who at first, but the guy's slicked back blond hair has become a trademark by this point. Jackson greets the audience with even more enthusiasm this time, the crowd already hype from two good performances.

Jungkook doesn't add up that Jackson being on stage means it's something about the League of Exes until it gets announced, to the crowd, that the third battle was about to take place.

It also takes him a couple of seconds to add even more, that the battle means _him,_ specifically, when Jackson carries on to explain that both bands will play for victory.

"What the fuck?!" He blurts out, dropping the warm water bottle.

Yugyeom is aware of everything, apparently, because he scoots closer to Jungkook's side so he can speak to his ear.

"It was Mingyu's idea," he says. "Since these are the last performances of the night. Whichever band gets more cheers wins."

Oh, okay. Jungkook supposes that it does make things more simple. “Wouldn’t I have to agree first, though?”

“Or someone from your band.”

Jungkook turns to look behind his shoulder and sure enough, Seokjin raises a bottle of beer at him in some sort of mock salute. 

Back on stage, Jackson announces the name of the band and the crowd goes wild as the four members of _b-back it up!_ come into view, one by one. The first one is the drummer, oversized black shirt, sleeveless gloves and bandana keeping the hair off his forehead. He waves at the audience and throws kisses before making his way to the drums, not as flashy as Hoshi but definitely enjoying the attention. The two other that follow are less enthusiastic, the one with the beanie and surf shorts and a fucking tie-dye guitar waves over his head when he gets to his spot while the other one barely spares the crowd a glace, heavy eyeliner, intimidating face and impressive red plaid pants, fingers glued to his bass as if his life depends on it. 

Mingyu comes last, towering over his bandmates, the guitar strapped to his torso and the chains on his combat boots sparkling under the stage lights. He stops behind his mic stand and winks at the crowd, earning a deafening response.

They're all tall and angry looking and Jungkook has no idea if every single guy at this festival is ridiculously attractive or if he just hit his head too hard. 

The rest of the _Bullet_ are all crowded together to watch the performance, leaving even less room in the already cramped space. Jungkook has Yugyeom glued to his right side and Taehyung to his left, Hoseok on the other side with his thumb on his lips, chewing his nails and fidgeting up and down.

Tie-dye guitar guy plays some notes to get the crowd excited, Mingyu and the drummer joining in. The stage shakes under Jungkook’s feet with the strength of the instruments, the raucous riff of the rhythm guitarist vibrating around his ears and high-pitched notes of Mingyu going fucking ham on his own. 

And then, he sings. The first words leave his lips as dripping with feeling, harsher than the angry percussion and the messy notes. It’s something Jungkook hasn’t heard before, likely an original track. The crowd is making noise but no one is singing along, not from what Jungkook can tell. It’s almost impossible to hear properly when you’re this close and the speakers are turned right at you. Mingyu drops the guitar so he can hold the mic stand, eyes shut and eyebrows knitted together. 

From the limited space on the side area, Jungkook can't tear his eyes away from him. Mingyu is captivating, his large frame taking up almost half the stage, leaning to whisper lyrics to the mic as if it's a secret, voice resonating over the bass line. 

The drummer starts pounding an impressive solo and to Jungkook’s utmost surprise, Mingyu starts rapping. 

Rapping. Fast spit words, rhythmic sounds connecting with the angry guitar riff and contrasting with the honey thick notes of the bass. His voice drops to a lower, almost insane, tone, keeping pace with his quick breaths. The crowd is taken by surprise, as he is, but people are screaming just the same.

He doesn’t know how to feel. This _is_ a battle after all. It feels surreal, for one, because even though he’s done this twice today (feels like a fucking eternity) it’s not something easy to get used to. Should he be impressed? Threatened, nervous? A little turned on? He’s paralyzed. He’s not sure he’s even blinking.

Jungkook sees a blurred shape snap past him and it takes him a second to register what it is. Hoseok, Hoseok pacing in front of them, hands on his head and screaming. Not that Jungkook can hear him, not over the deafening beat and screams and the ringing in his ears.

What he can, though, is read Hoseok like the back of his hand, and what he’s saying goes more or less along the lines of.

“HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO FOLLOW THIS?!” He moves between them, in clear distress, practically silent under a drum and bass solo. “WE’RE NOT GONNA WIN! WE’RE NOT GONNA SIGN WITH JYPE!” Hoseok is pulling at his hairs again, going from Jungkook to Taehyung in a frenetic circle. Jungkook still can’t tear his eyes away from Mingyu. “WE’LL NEVER PLAY AT THE LAST CONCERT! GOD DAMN IT JUNGKOOK WILL YOU PLEASE STOP JUST STANDING THERE YOU’RE FREAKING ME OUT!”

The last of his words get timed with the final notes of the tie-dye guy’s solo as their one track comes to an end, the crowd going crazy. Jungkook is still in a trance, watching the vocalist bask in the cheers, tan skin glowing under the spotlight, a satisfied smile displaying pointy white teeth. He can see the shape of the other three guys coming up to thank the audience, too, but it’s hard to break the spell. 

As soon as _b-back it up!_ move to leave the stage Jackson is already walking out, addressing the crowd with the same talk-show host enthusiasm from before.

It takes Yugyeom’s tentative touch on his shoulder for Jungkook to snap out of it, turning his head to meet the unreadable look in his eyes. Yugyeom bites on the skin of his bottom lip, which must mean he’s nervous, too. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, and all Jungkook can will himself to reply is an affirmative nod. Yugyeom lets out a sigh, his fingers reaching to travel up and down Jungkook’s nape. It sparks a shiver through his skin but the effect is soothing, Jungkook almost closing his eyes at the contact. Yugyeom is watching him, studying each reaction and he looks almost hesitant. “Is it okay if I go out there?” He asks, careful. Jungkook raises an eyebrow, not really sure what that’s supposed to mean. Yugyeom jerks his head beyond stage, to the audience. “I just, you know,” he shrugs. “I want to see your show properly. Maybe you’ll find me in the crowd.”

It sounds a bit shy, and for some fucking reason it’s so absurdly endearing that all Jungkook can do is, again, nod his head. 

Yugyeom smiles before he leans in close to plant a soft kiss on Jungkook’s cheek, whispering _good luck_ against his skin. It sinks down to his stomach, because the words are tender but the meaning they carry is heavy, and Jungkook tries not to make a disgruntled noise when Yugyeom pulls away and turns his back, disappearing into the darkness backstage.

Eyes on the now empty spot, Jungkook finds his voice.

“I’m gonna need you to do the damn thing out there, Hoseok.”

“But–.”

Jungkook turns on his feet, grabs Hoseok by the collar and pulls their faces close until their noses are inches apart. 

“NO BUT!” He snaps, shaking Hoseok for good measure. A sense of dejavu hits him, from the countless times he was on the receiving end of Hoseok’s fiery determination. “You’re always telling us to do our best for the band, and now is your turn! You will go on that stage and you’ll seduce the hell out of that audience!” He pushes out enough determination on his voice that he feels a scratch on his throat, and his brain reminds him faintly about the damned high note battle from earlier. It only adds fire to his point. “I don’t care if you take off your shirt and body roll into the mic, Hoseok,” he means it too, and he makes sure not to falter when Hoseok’s eyes widen and his lips part, dumbly. “We HAVE to win. There’s no other option.”

Jackson is still talking on stage, but the staff around is already getting the instruments on stage, already shouting out directions. Jungkook doesn’t loosen his grip on his vocalist, though. 

“Okay, fuck, okay,” Hoseok’s voice comes out hoarse, as if he’s just recovered it. He lets his eyes move around, nodding his head, probably trying to convince himself more than Jungkook. “Okay. I can do this. I can _do_ this.”

They don't have time to worry about it anymore, the staff with the clipboard urging them to make their way to the center of the stage, gesturing wildly. Before they go, though, Hoseok stops dead on his tracks, Jungkook bumping into him and Taehyung bumping into both of them. Jungkook feels a sour taste climb up his throat, the band can't afford Hoseok getting cold feet now, _he_ can't afford it, and they don't have time for him to come up with an inspirational speech – fuck, he's not their _leader_ and he has absolutely no idea on what-.

Hoseok turns around abruptly, and in his eyes there's not a single trace of reluctance.

"We need a good song." He says, loud and clear even under the sound of the crowd. "We need cheering, we need to pick something the crowd is gonna like."

Taehyung moves from behind Jungkook and their circle comes to a close huddle. Jungkook can feel other presences behind his back, likely Namjoon and Seokjin. He also feels a hand patting his thigh, not sure from who, but that's the first time he notices he's fidgeting, feet tapping at a rate to match the speed of his heartbeat. Jungkook forces in a deep breath.

"I think we should do a cover." Hoseok says, looking at Jungkook directly. It's still too dark for him to fully see what's going on, getting glimpses of his band from the wavering lights of the stage. He still sees the vocalist's furrowed brow, sees the seriousness in his eyes. "Something everyone will know."

"Are you sure?" Jungkook shoots back, and he sounds a little desperate even to his own ears.

That's because he thinks so, too. He's had that same idea marinating at the back of his mind for the past five minutes. Sure, he wants the crowd to know him, know the _Bullet,_ from their own efforts. Wants to climb to the top by singing his and Namjoon's words instead of someone else's, and he knows that more than any of them, Hoseok feels the most strongly about this. How much their band means to him, and how much he's willing to sacrifice.

He also knows that if they want to get a reaction out of the crowd, the safest bet is to play something they already know. If it means they keep going, if it means being a step closer to a label deal, or at the very least a chance to play more, to keep playing, to show what they can do. Then, if it's for a chance to prove themselves, this sacrifice falls pale in comparison.

"Okay," he says, after what felt like five hours instead of the realistic five seconds. "We all know which one, right?"

Both Taehyung and Hoseok nod in unison. It's their song, of sorts, the first one they learned how to play as a group. The song they’re most comfortable with that is not _theirs._

"Um, _Bullet?"_ Jackson's voice calls, sounding a little worried. "Any time today?"

Hoseok sends them all a blinding smile and turns on his feet, walking towards the stage as if he has done it his entire life. The crowd cheers for him, nothing too wild, but Hoseok takes it all in with open arms. 

Jungkook shares one look with Taehyung and sets forward, feet heavy, under the spotlight. It’s strong and it’s hot and it prickles at his skin, a hairline away from being uncomfortable. Jungkook avoids looking at the crowd the best he can, his eyes trained on the dark floor where wires and marks get tangled until he gets to his bass, the case open and ready for him. 

Namjoon is there too, next to the drums and looking more nauseated than anything, but doing his best to stand tall. Jungkook can't really be sure that Take Me Out has ever had a tambourine sound, but he appreciates having all the support he can get.

The weight is familiar to him, the strap fitting across his shoulder as if it was made just for him, and with his left hand wrapped around the neck, his right fingers feeling the texture of each of the strings, Jungkook feels himself take the first real breath ever since the day started, and he looks up. 

He can’t actually see much, which is a little anticlimactic. He can see the first row of people, blurs of faces and banners and black t-shirts, can see in the far distance the bundles of people scattered, can see the second smaller stage where he fought Minghao, but that’s about it. He can’t find Yugyeom’s face amongst the others.

There’s picks on his mic stand that are not his, but he doesn’t mind. As much as it’s not the hardest thing to play, the chords are relatively simple, the repetition coming to him from muscle memory, it’s not an easy song to perform. It relies on the energy they put out, and the energy they receive back. It’s a group effort, and it’s a gamble just as it is a safe bet.

Faintly, he wishes himself luck, just in time to catch Taehyung banging the drum sticks together to count them down.

“WE ARE THE BULLET ONE TWO THREE FOUR!”

He and Hoseok play the first notes, loud and messy, and the crowd recognizes it immediately, already bouncing in erratic intervals. The intro is long, and Jungkook feels his own heartbeat match the guitar riff. From his spot on the left of the stage he can still see Seokjin and Yoongi, hiding in the shadows. Yoongi throws him an apathetic thumbs-up.

Hoseok leans close to the mic, takes his last breath before he starts singing. 

_“So if you’re lonely,”_ he sings, eyeing the audience with a sharp gaze. _“You know I’m here waiting for you.”_

And then Jungkook’s fingers start moving before he can fully process it.

The song comes to him like an old friend, the notes engraved so far inside his brain it almost feels like his own song. At first all he can feel is the beats under his feet and the scratch of the strings on his fingertips, the loud banging on his eardrums, but each note he plays makes his chest feel less constricted. He feels himself opening up, feels the tension evaporating from his muscles like steam, feels the burn, the rush, the excitement. He starts moving along with the riff, swaying from side to side and letting his head fall loose, the electric feeling bubbling underneath his skin. 

The lights are dancing on the stage, reflecting on the wires and pedals, and Jungkook is too hyped to stand still. They’re about to play the chorus and he feels like he’s about to burst, looking around and catching Hoseok and Taehyung in pretty much the same state, Namjoon clapping his tambourine to match the beat of Taehyung’s drums. 

They’re not alone, he can see it in the crowd too. It’s different, so much different than playing at college bars and highschool parties, so much different but familiar at the same time. He can’t see that far, he doesn’t try to, there’s too many people jumping around for him to do so, but he sees more faces jumping along with the beat than only standing around for the sake of it. They’re bumping their fists in the air, jumping and pushing with no rhythm whatsoever, singing along to Hoseok’s guitar.

Honestly, the feeling is so overwhelming Jungkook can’t bring himself to give a shit if the crowd has five people of five thousand. He can’t stop looking, though. It’s addictive, just like their dumpster bar gigs were – the reason the _Bullet_ kept going in the first place – but on a much bigger scale. 

Something strikes him, and it’s almost magnetic how he runs his eyes through the blurry faces and goes straight to familiar ones, no longer covered by that black cap. Yugyeom isn’t singing, isn’t jumping around or dancing like the people around him, but he’s watching Jungkook. He’s just standing there, watching Jungkook without ever breaking eye contact.

Then, he smiles. 

It burns hotter than the stage lights and the Sun from this morning combined.

Jungkook feels that smile with every fiber of his being and it sends an even bigger rush of adrenaline to his chest. He smiles back before he gets pulled back into the performance, losing sight of Yugyeom in the process.

It’s over in a heartbeat, Jungkook getting caught by surprise by the sudden stop of the instruments, the buzzing of Hoseok’s last note mixed up with the loud cheering and clapping. He looks back at his bandmates first, Taehyung is standing behind the drumset, his hands outstretched and a bright smile on his face. Namjoon looks like he’s a little nauseous, but at the same time damn pleased about it. Hoseok is glowing, literally, beads of sweat coming down his temples shining under the lights while he screams back at the crowd, happiness dripping off of him. He looks to the side stage, too, where Seokjin and Yoongi are barely visible in the dark but enough so Jungkook sees their smiles, hears Seokjin’s screams louder than everyone else’s. 

Jungkook turns then, has half a mind to throw the pick at the crowd even though it’s not his. He looks over the dozens of people and it blows his mind how this is more people in one place than they’ve played for their entire lives, _combined._ Still, he only cares about one of them. 

Before he knows it he’s getting called out of the stage, Namjoon coming to his side and giving him a half hug. Someone takes his bass from him and hands him a bottle of water, Jungkook can barely see now that he’s back on the side part, still a little blinded by the spotlights. 

“You did so well!” Someone taps his back, it’s a voice he recognises. Seokmin. “You guys did so well!”

Jungkook wants to thank him, but he’s not sure he has the voice to do so. Which makes no sense since, you know, he wasn’t even singing to begin with. His throat feels like sandpaper, though, so he drinks the entire bottle.

It helps clear his mind, the surroundings and people start to make sense. Jungkook spots Jackson on the side of the stage, talking in hushed whispers to a group of staff, all in different levels of distress. He tries not to focus too much on how that conversation concerns him and looks for his band instead. 

Hoseok’s eyes are still sparkling and his skin is still glowing even in the dark, as if he has a light of his own. He was fucking amazing up there. Jungkook caught glimpses of him every now and then, jumping with the lyrics and smiling at the audience. Jungkook would kiss him if he could. 

Well. No one ever said he couldn’t.

He swoops Hoseok from his feet and plants a kiss right at his mouth with a very loud smack. It’s not supposed to be a kiss, it’s a feeling. Hoseok doesn’t even blink, and he seems to get it perfectly. 

“Thank you, man!” He yells back, hands coming up to smoosh Jungkook’s cheeks together. “You we’re fucking rad up there, too!”

He wants to do the same thing to Taehyung and Namjoon, probably not the kissing, but Jackson grabs him by the arm and drags him back to the stage. His eyes burn from being tossed so suddenly under the spotlight and his ears are still kind of ringing, but he doesn’t care. He gets placed right at center of the stage, Jackson in the middle and Mingyu on the other side.

The whole thing happens almost as if Jungkook is watching scenes from a silent film and not reading the texts. He can see Jackson talking to the audience and how the people cheer back, he can see Mingyu sending flying kisses left and right, but that's pretty much it. He blinks his eyes a grand total of four times and he's being enveloped in a suffocating hug again, a mess of bleached white and red hair.

It only downs on him once everyone is off the stage, gathered in the same grass area they ran into Fast Pace earlier. He gets a high five from the drummer kid of Minghao's band that he managed to win the third battle.

The _Bullet_ is there too, Namjoon getting all flustered because Jackson won’t stop complimenting him, Yoongi with his arms crossed in the corner looking like a proud uncle and Taehyung chatting up one of the pretty guys from _Fast Pace._

“You guys played really well, gave me chills and everything.” Seokjin rubs up and down his forearms to portray said chills. “But the other guys were definitely sexier. You got damn lucky they played a song no one knows.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes and Hoseok snorts, “Thanks a lot, Seokjin.”

“You’re welcome,” he replies, tapping Hoseok’s arm softly, as if talking to a child.

Everyone starts spreading after that, a few groups forming to go back to the food court, some ready to leave and he even picks up on a conversation about a nearby bar. Jungkook says no to all of them, he’s sure his limbs can’t handle any more excitement for the day. Which reminds him, his phone has been missing the entire afternoon and he has no way of contacting Yugyeom now. Great. 

He’s not going to say it doesn’t suck, that Yugyeom fucking disappears everytime he wins one of the battles. He thinks, at the very least, he’s entitled to a hug or something. A _good job, man,_ even a fucking pat in the back. He lets out a sigh, thinking it’s probably for the best. He’s tired, anyway. The rest of the people are gone, mostly, and Jungkook stands there for a few seconds, searching what's left of his brain for where in the parking loft they left Yoongi's mom's minivan.

“Your band is fucking rad.”

Jungkook almost jumps in surprise but collects himself just in time to turn around. He needs to crane his neck a little to properly see who it is from how close they’re standing. That in itself should be clue enough. 

“Oh, thanks.” He replies, taking a step back so he can see Mingyu better. All he gets is tall, handsome, big smile with sharp shiny teeth and sweat tan skin. “You guys were really cool too. I was so nervous I almost puked.”

Mingyu laughs, a hand coming to squeeze Jungkook’s shoulder lightly. “Ah, that’s nice of you!” His eyes are sparkling, and his hand doesn’t move from Jungkook. “Trust me, no one could tell. You were super cool, like-, a real rockstar! You know how to put up a show.”

Jungkook thinks maybe he’s been awake for long enough to start hallucinating. He can barely believe how long the day has been and even less that half the things that happened to him were real. But, you know, Mingyu’s strong pectorals are right under his nose and they sure as hell don’t look fake. 

“I don’t know what came over me.” He admits, looking up from the chest back to Mingyu’s face. Not that it helps much, the guy looks like a fucking model. “I think it was adrenaline? I just really wanted to win.”

Mingyu nods, his hand finally sliding off from Jungkook’s shoulder to run the hair away from his forehead. “I know what you mean, when you’re playing like that it really tunes out the rest of the world. The energy is so crazy you forget about everything else.” 

A group of people walks by engaged in loud conversation, headed back towards the parking lot. Four of the girls start giggling as soon as they spot them, sending flying kisses and winks as they go. Mingyu flashes them a bright smile in return and Jungkook waves, dumbly, which proceeds to make the girls giggle _more._ Huh. 

They disappear behind the gates before Mingyu turns to him again. “So, you defeated three exes in one day, that’s really impressive.”

"I-, yeah," Jungkook chuckles. "Tell me about it." 

Mingyu gestures to the side, so that Jungkook will follow him. He leads them further from the group, outside the fence and back to the main area of the festival. It's pretty empty, people leaving after the last concert. The only things still going on are the food court and a edm dancehall in the smaller stage. Jungkook can hear it in the distance.

Mingyu turns to him, leaning against one of the light poles.

“So, you’re familiar with the whole deal by now?”

Jungkook shrugs. “I guess? Something tells me I won’t get used to it anytime soon.” 

That must have been the right answer, because it makes Mingyu laugh. “Yeah, you can count on that. But three out of seven, that’s not bad at all!” He tilts his head, his sharp teeth showing between his lips when he grins. “You beat Minghao, though– _that_ was really metal. When Seok told me you challenged Hao to an actual fight, I was half expecting to meet you in a hospital bed.” Mingyu scrunches his nose. “I mean, no offense.”

He giggles, and it makes Jungkook smile too. “It’s fine, I was kind of half expecting to end up in a hospital bag, too.” 

Something about the sound of Mingyu’s laugh and the way his eyes squint when he smiles makes Jungkook’s head feel light and airy, almost as if he’s listening to a very big and muscular lullaby. He nods his head along, he’s pretty sure Mingyu is talking but he can’t hear what about, and he starts swaying to the side trying to stand up straight. 

“You had a pretty long day, though. You must be exhausted.”

Jungkook blinks, and it’s only then he notices how long it takes for his eyes to open up again. He wants to open his mouth to reply but even that seems like too much trouble. Mingyu picks up on it and chuckles to himself.

“That’s okay, we’ll have all week before the next battle, plenty of time to chat!” Mingyu gives him one of those blinding grins. His teeth are _really_ pointy. “You should go back to your bus, get lots of rest. I’ll buy you a beer later!” 

Jungkook feels dumbfounded, to say the least, but being reminded of his own tiredness makes it almost impossible for him to ignore it. His bones feel heavy in his body and his head clouded. He’s worried that if he doesn’t find his friends soon he might pass out on the mud and get left behind.

Mingyu takes his hand in a gentle grip – that’s somehow firm at the same time – and shakes it up and down four times before he’s all smiles again. 

“Good luck, Jeon Jungkook!” He says, taking a couple of steps back, raising his fingers to salute him. “You’re gonna need it!”

Jungkook doesn’t reply to that and stands still until Mingyu has fully left, jogging up to join the quiet bassist with red plaid pants on the way. It’s not until later, way later, when he’s half-awake trying to open the door of the minivan so Yoongi can come back in and Taehyung waves at him from outside that Jungkook fully registers what Mingyu told him and wonders what the fuck that meant.

X X X X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so, update! I was going to commit to the aesthetic and keep this only 7 chapters, but the chapters would just be GIGANTIC and it would take me forever to post so, new plan, I'm splitting up the chapters into smaller chapters. 
> 
> see you soon 
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/starrysol) ♡


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